


Subspace

by poppypickford



Series: Subspace [1]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Angst, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Drug Use, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Pre-Slash, Punishment, Slash, Spanking, Subspace, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 71,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppypickford/pseuds/poppypickford
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey Specter loves Subs, but commitment has never really been his thing. That is until he hires a skinny-ass Dom whose real orientation is not the only thing he has to hide. And really, it doesn't matter how distracted Harvey is by his new associate because Mike doesn't want to be a Sub and he certainly doesn't want to be Harvey's Sub... at least, that's what he tells himself.</p><p>A love story that takes place in an alternate reality almost exactly like our own, apart from the fact that everyone is biologically determined as either Dominate or Submissive.  And who you are really does make a difference.  A BIG difference.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _This is the first story in what will be a series of at least three. The series is set in the D/s or BDSM AU. However, I'm taking my own liberties with the universe as it's fairly new and has varying rules. If you're familiar with the AU, I understand there are many different variations, but for the purpose of my story, I have decided to pick, choose and... enhance._
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> _The first installment is mostly pre-slash and relationship development, but toward the end and in the following stories, the rating will kick up._
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> _**PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF TAGS! They act as a warning list for the story.** While those warnings are subject to change, if a chapter contains something of unexpectedly upsetting content, I will provide special warnings in the chapter notes._
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>  **If you're curious about the universe and want to read a bit (or kind of a lot) about it, you can go to my livejournal post at** \- http://poppypickford.livejournal.com/9175.html 
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>  
> 
> _Thanks for reading!_

"This is really good stuff Mike, it'll put you down for hours." Trevor holds an unrolled joint up for Mike to sniff. Even the smell makes his sight go dark and his muscles feel like buckling. He inhales long and hard, then looks the other way.

The two are reclining on Mike's couch surrounded by half a dozen full zip-lock bags of the pinkish colored herb that has been a constant in their life and friendship for over a decade.

Trevor is dividing his attention between a rerun of some cop show Mike knows so well he could replay it in his head using the back of his eyelids for a television, and a plate of 'Subspace' he's meticulously rolling and stashing in his old dented chewing gum tin. Trevor takes two joints and places them on Mike's coffee table without a word. Mike can't afford to pay him and he knows it.

While Trevor is a happy addict, Mike can't help feeling like a failure. If he wants to act the Dom then he should be able to pull it off without drugs. Without satisfying the biological inconvenience inside him that keeps telling him to get down on his knees already and be done with it. He stares at the two joints and tries to lick the dryness from his lips.

The Dom cop in the show is gently petting the head of a Sub tied to a dumpster while police sirens come skidding down the alley. The Sub, a pretty Asian woman with stereotypically long sleek hair, is whimpering gratefully as the deep baritone voice above her whispers encouraging praise and apologies for not arriving early enough to protect her from attack. The ripped sleeves and bloody skirt don't leave much to the imagination.

Subs get raped at a statistical majority that makes Mike’s head spin. It's also the leading reason he’ll do anything to keep up his facade.

He saw an article a couple months back. It said that about sixty-five percent of Subs can expect to experience some non-consensual encounter with a Dom in their lifetimes. One out of every four can expect that encounter to escalate to a life-threatening risk level. Of course, a hard spike in 'Subspace' addiction among Subs is a big part of the problem. It's a lot easier to take advantage if a Sub has been taken down with chemistry instead of psychology.

Approximately .02% of rape cases are reported by Doms. The popular theory maintains that most Doms wouldn't report it anyway, which skews the margins. But, still - point. zero. two. percent.

Mike wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The summer night is too warm and his ceiling fan broke over a year ago. Despite his frustration he can't help but feel a little stir of arousal and flutter of jealousy for the woman on the TV. The way she leans into the cop's hand like a house cat, the blissful expression on her lips, the full attention of her temporary Dom that makes everything blur and mute out around her despite the whirl of paramedics and rescue personnel. The scene must be having a similar effect on Trevor who has stopped rolling joints and is also staring, momentarily transfixed. When it switches to commercial they abruptly shake out of it. Nevertheless, Mike is pretty sure they're both thinking about - or more likely trying not to think about - the same thing. Mike stands to get more beer from the fridge.

"What are you doing Friday morning?" Trevor asks to his back while Mike pulls out the bottles. He really wants Trevor to just leave. He suddenly needs to smoke some Subspace but he never does it with company. It's too personal.

"I dunno. I'll probably pick up some work."

"Okay. Now, before you say no, just hear me out - "

"No." Mike says firmly.

"Come on, Mike, don't pull that shit on me. We practiced the Dom voice together when we were fifteen."

Mike just shakes his head and takes his beer back into the living room. He flips off the TV and stands staring at his friend. "What is it?"

He sweeps his hands over the bags of Subspace. "I need all this delivered to a hotel on Park Avenue. I have a client coming in from out of town. I would go myself but I have another appointment that’s more, delicate."

"I’m sorry. Find someone else.”

"Mike, it's the fucking Chilton Hotel. I need someone who can walk in with a briefcase full of Subspace and not get nicked at the door for looking like a trafficker."

"And that's me?"

"Yes! You think I know someone else who could pull it off?"

Mike shakes his head again and then starts filling up Trevor's duffel bag.

"No chance. I told you I'm not getting involved in this shit. I'm just... not."

Trevor groans and sits back on the couch, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Take all this and go home. Say hello to Jenny for me."

After Trevor has gone and Mike is clearing away the empty beer bottles and pizza boxes, he pulls out one of the two joints still tucked beside his red BIC lighter. It’s been a really shitty week.

Mike turns out the lights, bolts the door, sheds his clothes into a pile, and sighs as he sits back on the couch. It's dark except for the blue light streaming in from one of the street signs outside. He flicks his lighter a couple times until the orange flame appears, dancing in front of him hypnotically, then he holds up the joint and watches the end burn and crinkle black.

The first inhale shuts him down completely and he starts floating. His muscles turn liquid and every care and worry seems to evaporate around him, and it feels so good that it doesn't surprise him at all when he feels his cock getting hard. Not all Subs react like this to Subspace. In fact he's an exception. Subspace isn't designed to get you turned on. That would be counterproductive and just plain frustrating. If the Sub had someone around to help get them off they wouldn't be taking this stuff anyway. But Mike doesn’t really care.

When the joint is smoked down to a nub he has just enough awareness to drop it in the ashtray and then let his hand rub weakly up and down his cock. He's too far gone to finish the job, but while he's still conscious it makes everything feel that much better. At some point he drifts off. In the morning, despite the inevitable hangover, he'll be rested for the first time in over a week. That's something good at least.

 

Mike is sitting next to Gram while she flicks through the morning newspaper to show him something she'd read. It’s an article about a new bill they're trying to pass in Washington to enforce better workplace equality for Subs. He's nodding and smiling and trying to sound enthusiastic. His Grandmother is from a generation where being a full time, stay at home Sub, with nothing to worry about except how to please their Dom, was something to be proud of. But now that Mike has made it clear that that kind of life is not only _not_ for him, but is just plain offensive, she's become more open minded.

"I just hate seeing you go through so much heartache." She touches his cheek with her frail fingers. "Being a Sub isn't so bad, and things are changing all the time." She points with her other hand at a photo of his Grandpa and her Dom of over fifty years. She wasn't even eighteen when he collared her. One of the worn down leather collars she'd worn for him, probably the first, is sitting in an open wooden box with painted flowers on the lid.

"He took such good care of me." Her eyes are watering. "And he was my great love. I might not have had as many opportunities, but I was happy."

Mike smiles. "I know you were Gram."

"But you're different, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"I think you're right about that, dear. You want so much more out of life, and that's good." Her eyes are shining. She's lucky not to have developed bad vision and cloudy eyes like so many others he sees in this place.

"But don't forget who you are." She pats his cheek and lays back in bed. "Now, that's all I have to say."

Mike smiles sadly and goes back to reading the article while she begins her afternoon nap.

 

"She's welcome to stay here, of course, Mr. Ross." A soft spoken Sub, one of Gram's nurses, is walking with him down the hall.

Mike is making sure to keep his posture erect and his shoulders back. His physical appearance is contradictory enough to a Dom's natural features that he has to work extra hard. His attitude is pretty convincing so most people don't see through the smoke screen and start wondering.

For example, if anyone paid attention they might notice that he's too thin. Even if he weren't a lazy ass he wouldn't be able to build up very much natural muscle. But, he makes up for it with baggy, bulky clothes and a hair cut above the ears - a strictly dominant style. Even in the gay scene Subs tend to keep their hair below the shoulders. They need to in order to make a statement when they're seen out with another Sub wrapped around them, their fingers all twisted up in each others physical sign of submission to ‘the man’.

"We have enough resources here to keep her comfortable, but if you ask me, sir," she looks up at him through her eyelashes. "There are places that provide services that will, frankly, keep her alive longer. Your grandmother was collared for fifty years. She needs special care to keep healthy."

"How much would a place like that cost?"

"The best one I can recommend has an entry cost of 25,000 dollars for the first six months, and then another thirty-five hundred or so a month in fees."

Mike rubs at his eyes where a pressure headache is forming. "And you really think she'd be better off?"

"I'd give her about a year or two if she stays with us. There are only so many programs we can offer. I think you could double or triple her life expectancy if she had the proper medical and emotional care."

"I don't have that kind of income." It's an understatement. He's never had anything close to 25,000 dollars at one time. That's Trevor's reality, not his.

"I wouldn't presume to know your situation, sir. I just felt I should give you my advice while it might still make a difference." She nods once and walks away.

Now that he thinks about it this place really is a shit hole. There's a rotting ceiling tile in this part of the wing that no one has bothered to fix in months. And the wallpaper still has little ducks and rabbits from when this was a children's hospital back in the eighties.

Without thinking too much about it Mike kisses his Grandmother goodbye and makes his excuses for leaving early. It's Sunday. He usually stays through dinner and an old movie on TCM.

As soon as he's outside Mike pulls out his phone and dials Trevor.

"I'm in. I'll do the job, but I want $25,000." He waits through the silence on the other end.

"Done. Be at the Chilton Hotel tomorrow morning at ten o’clock."

 

Harvey has a lot of appeal as a Dom. Actually, he fancies himself one of the best Doms around and even that's modest. However, even his own skills pale compared to Jessica’s natural aura of dominance. Having her sitting next to him while trying to pick up a particularly hard-to-get Sub is never something he’ll pass up. The way Subs fall at her feet you’d think she’d taken a bath in pheromones. This of course works well for her in the office where _somebody_ at least needs to have a one up on all the big bad and very _very_ cocky Doms she hires.

The good news for Harvey is that Jessica doesn’t take on Subs anymore. Not ever. Not since she lost her last. So when a good looking one gets a sniff of her and comes to pant heavily at her feet, he has the benefit of being the Dom who actually gets to take them home for the night.

But just for the night. Harvey Specter doesn’t do relationships.

This particular Sub isn’t really his type but she’s stubborn and at least that’s a challenge. She'd been sneaking around their table all evening, being particularly attentive to Jessica. Harvey’s just about ready to divert her attention while it might still work in his favor.

Ideally, he prefers his Subs small, fair, and absolutely gagging for it. But he also likes a Sub who he has to push to their knees a couple times before they actually drop. It’s just more fun that way.

“Listen,” Harvey looks at his waitress’s name tag. “Lisa. I don’t normally do this.”

“Do what, sir? Drink in public?”

He smirks. If they were at home he’d slap her for that. She smiles prettily with her blood red lips and he knows she’d love it. She’s a pain slut, he can tell. Always asking for trouble.

“No. I don’t normally scene on a Sunday night.”

“I see. And are you deluded enough to think that I’ll be your exception?”

Harvey scoots forward in his seat until he’s inches from the ample breasts of what he knows will be his next treat.

He grins up at her and plays with the end of her long brown ponytail. When she’s about to open her mouth to say more he quickly wraps her hair up in his fist and tugs down sharply. She gasps.

“Be at my apartment by ten. If you’re late you’ll regret it.” He slips his card into her blouse pocket. The one with his address on the back that he keeps in a special suit pocket for just such occasions.

Lisa nods. “Yes, sir.”

He gives her neck a soft lingering kiss. She’s shivering a little but not pulling away. In fact, she’s pressing in closer.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

There’s a sway in her step as she stumbles away. Another Sub behind the bar helps her fix her hair while she smiles from ear to ear and discreetly gestures across the room at him.

“I’d call you a genius,” Jessica says in her smooth drawl, “but you hear that far too often.” Every time she speaks in public Harvey could swear Subs everywhere turn and drool. It isn’t fair.

“She would have gotten down under the table for you if you’d given her the time of day.”

Jessica shrugs. “Perhaps. But if I let her do that I’d never hope to get another free drink out of you. This is the only reason you bring me along.”

While Jessica continues where she left off talking about something dull and not-his-problem that had happened at the firm that morning, Lisa walks by once more with two more shirt buttons undone. She makes sure to catch his eye and winks.

She’s wearing a leather bra under her prim white blouse.

Harvey sighs dramatically and stands up from the table. He tosses a wad of money down and dusts off his suit.

“It has been a pleasure, Jessica, but it appears I need to go home and set up my sling.”

“Don’t you dare be late for your interviews tomorrow,” Jessica shouts through the crowd. “The Chilton Hotel. Ten o’clock sharp.” Harvey gives her a thumbs up and disappears.

 

“Strawberries smell good on you.”

Harvey bites a sliver of fruit from Lisa’s stomach and then licks the juice off with the tip of his tongue.

“What do you think? You want one?” He holds it up. “Oh, I see. Your mouth is full.”

Lisa is strapped spread eagle to the bed with his best black leather straps and in her mouth is one of his less comfortable ball gags.

He clicks his tongue at her. “It’s your own fault. I told you last night what the punishment is for bad girls who talk too much.”

Harvey’s pretty sure if she could kick him in the face she would. She was tough to take down. Really tough. But worth it. And she was lovely while in subspace. It’s just too bad she came out of her high this morning with such a bad attitude.

He bends over and licks off another berry. He’s propped up on one elbow and reading the newspaper with her thigh as a prop. He’ll give her a few more minutes to wallow in it before he unties her and sends her off to eat the bowl of oatmeal and coffee he left out on the kitchen counter. No one has ever accused him of being a bad host.

Honestly, he really needs to shower and leave by a quarter after if he’s to make his interviews on time. He rolls out of bed and goes to the bathroom. Lisa growls angrily behind him.

Oops. Almost forgot. Harvey tries to make it look purposeful when he turns around and unties her.


	2. Chapter 2

Traffic speeds past as Mike straightens his tie in the reflection of a taxi window. It’s his only one, a skinny striped thing he bought once for a bonding ceremony. Approaching the hotel entrance, complete with two doormen and one too many Ferraris parked on the curb, makes Mike painfully sorry that he isn't at the Chilton for just about any reason other than drug trafficking. How is this his life? He clears his throat and pulls his shoulders back so far it hurts, then walks in with a nod to the doorman. As soon as he’s passed the check-in staff, his first point of interference, he lets himself ease into character.

The hotel is large, ornate, and crowded enough that Mike doesn’t have any trouble blending in. When he almost topples over two separate sets of luggage without making a scene he realizes it really isn’t easy to draw attention to yourself in this place. Unless you’re dressed incorrectly, that is. Trevor was right about the suit.

With the elevator in sight Mike stops at a shop window to admire a black and platinum Rolex that would, quite frankly, look ridiculous on his much too thin wrist, even if he could afford it.

"Mr. Sorkin?"

Mike looks over his shoulder and then goes back to admiring the watch.

"Excuse me, sir? Are you here for the interviews?"

Mike turns around to find a flustered red headed Dom who is wiping at her brow with expensively manicured nails and looking him over with pursed, irritated lips. Mike furrows his brow until he notices the sign he’s standing beside.

_Pearson Hardman Interviews  
Room 2005 _

Pearson Hardman? The law agency? Mike knows it by reputation, of course. High end corporate law. Flashy clientele and a sterling reputation for success, even if that means not playing strictly by the book.

During the few months he attended Harvard, Mike remembers Pearson Hardman as one of the most talked about firms. A coveted opportunity for the best and brightest graduates. Pearson Hardman, like Harvard, has a reputation for releasing successful and powerful Doms into the world of high-end law but they don’t really have time to bother with even the smartest and most driven Subs. So, when Harvard found out about his forged blood tests, he was expelled without another thought. Since then, Mike hasn’t allowed himself the time to think about things that might have been. Nobody gets anywhere by living in the past.

But then again, nobody gets anywhere by submitting to the rules, especially when they’re bad rules. Mike, of all people, should know that. And besides, only idiots pass up opportunities when they run up and slap you in the face.

Mike flusters before blurting. "Yes. Sorkin. That’s me."

The woman lets out a long sigh and hands him a sheet of paper. He glances at it with a shiver of anticipation. A junior associate position?

"Twentieth floor." She looks him over with a tilt of the head. "If you hurry and are very lucky, Mr. Specter might not throw you out on your polyester ass."

Mike takes a new look at his suit as he presses the elevator button and steps into an already waiting car. What's wrong with polyester?

Somewhere around the eighth floor Mike remembers what's in his suitcase and winces. He technically has until eleven o’clock to make the drop. Trevor arranged it that way to cover Mike in case something went wrong. He checks the time on his phone - nine fifty-seven. Well, a little identity fraud in the meantime shouldn't hurt. He clutches the suitcase to his thigh and straightens his tie.

While sitting in the much too claustrophobic waiting room Mike twice considers just walking out. No harm, no foul. The second time he actually stands causing the other candidates - all annoyingly blue-blooded Doms - to look up at him. He sits back down again and sinks low in his chair.

What the fuck is he doing? He came here to run the most dangerous errand of his life - not that it isn’t for a good cause. And now to complicate things he's somehow wormed his way into an interview for a law firm that makes all other firms look like they belong in a suburban storefront. 

And what was his plan exactly? Just walk in there and pretend to be some guy who probably got sick on sushi the night before and missed his interview? As if. Then what? Announce to - he looks down at the sheet of paper - Harvey Specter, that he's a fraud but please please _please_ just hear him out because this is his dream job? This is what he's wanted, but was always too much of a screw up to achieve? Because he was always too much of a fake? Too much Sub? Because he’s had too much plain bad luck even for a guy with an eidetic memory? Yeah, that sounded like the perfect line to get him a job without a law degree. Stupid.

Mike takes a couple of heavy breaths through his nose and thanks god he had the sense to take a hit of Subspace only a few nights earlier, he'd never have kept his cool otherwise. He can usually go for two weeks, sometimes three. But even after three or four days the effects are already wearing off, making him jittery, nervous and discontented.

The big mahogany office door swings open as another discouraged looking candidate exits.

"Rick Sorkin!" someone shouts from inside before the door has time to shut again.

Mike almost forgets who he's playing before he's on his feet as if someone lit a firecracker under him.

Once inside the office Mike suddenly realizes he has no clue which of his genius plans he's going to go with. So he just stands, awkwardly, thumbing at the handle of his briefcase, and waits.

The man, Harvey Specter, looks up at Mike and then down again.

"We only hire Doms at Pearson Hardman."

Well, Mike wasn't expecting that.

"Fuck you man, I'm not a Sub."

 

Harvey looks up again at the candidate. This one is already the most interesting, and definitely worth another look.

He leans back in his chair and temples his fingers under his chin. It's strange. Now that he really looks at the kid there isn't any reason at all why he thought he was a Sub. Short hair. Tall, erect posture. Chin held high despite the slightest hint of nervous energy in the eyes. He does have a small build and is very thin, but it's hard to really tell under the shockingly bad suit.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sorkin, to offend," he says with a nod. "But I'm usually good at reading people."

"Yeah, well. I'm not a Sub, alright?"

Harvey raises one eyebrow.

"Do people accuse you of it often?"

"No. No, I was just startled, that's all."

Harvey raises his eyebrows and looks down at the file. He flips it open and begins to scan, but doesn't make it much further than the photograph clipped to the corner. Judging by the whispered 'fuck' he hears across the room, the kid saw the same thing he did.

"Interesting, Mr. Sorkin. It seems you've had quite a drastic change in skin color since your last photo op." He smiles wickedly. More and more interesting by the second.

"Okay, yeah. I can totally explain."

"Please do."

The kid opens his mouth a couple of time before giving up and pointing to his desk.

"Is that the Barby Legal Handbook?"

Harvey glances over at his desk copy. "I don't have time to play games with you, I'm running an interview. Please get out and if you come up with a good story for why you were here in the first place, please, email it to me. It’ll be just one more reason to convince Jessica my time shouldn’t be wasted on _interviews_ ," he says with distaste. 

"Just open up to a page and read something."

"Why would I do that?"

"Come on, please? Humor me?"

Harvey smirks and grabs the book with one hand, one eyebrow lifted in amusement. He likes this kid. He’s also disturbingly attracted to him which is more confusing than he has time to deal with right now.

He opens to a page somewhere in the middle and starts reading. "Civil liability associated with agency is based on several factors -”

“Including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inferene of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves.”

Harvey stares at the kid's mouth as he speaks the words robotically. "How did you do that?"

"I learned it when I studied for the Bar. I remember it because I retain information better than anyone you're ever likely to meet. I'm not going to pretend to have an Ivy League education as I'm sure all of those Doms out there do, but I'm smart. A lot smarter than any of them and I'm confident enough to take on this job. I know I must sound crazy, but I don't care." He takes a deep breath, then exhales as if defeated. "It wouldn't be the first time someone kicked me to the curb while I tried to fight for something I wanted."

Harvey's heart is beating wildly as he stands up from the desk. The kid has moved in closer and is almost leaning against the opposite edge.

"You aren't a Dom at all, are you? I knew I could smell Sub on you."

His eyes narrow and his lip curls back from his teeth before he spits out another "fuck you." He pulls his shoulders back and says, "It's none of your business what my orientation is."

"No? You waltzed in here off the street smelling like cheap coffee and gave me a speech about why I should hire someone without a law degree. And now you have the audacity to tell me what is and is not my business? If you want me to give you one more second of my time, I suggest you start being honest with me. Because right now all I see in you is a kid with a bunch of wild claims and a case of chronic dishonesty." Harvey pushes aside the stack of resumes and perches one hip on the edge of the desk. "What's your name?"

"It's Mike Ross. And I'm not lying."

"About anything?"

Mike's eyes drop so quickly Harvey almost misses it but it’s still enough to conjure up a rather appealing image of this kid on his knees with his eyes to the floor like a good little Sub. Harvey shifts on the desk to take the pressure off the beginnings of an unwanted erection. This is why they don't like to have Subs in the office.

When Mike lifts his eyes again the confidence is back. "I've lived as a Dom for eleven years."

"What does your blood record say?"

"Which one? My high school record says Dom, my Harvard record said Dom too until they found me out and revoked my acceptance and scholarships. My official public record says Sub but I'm saving up to have that hacked.”

Harvey laughs in surprise. "That's a jail sentence of six to eighteen months."

"You think I don't know that? I have that shit memorized for New York, California, Texas and twenty-three other states. If we were in South Carolina it would be ten to twenty-two months."

"You're awfully dedicated to your disguise."

He shrugs. "It's the only way I can get what I want out of life. Excuse me for being born the wrong orientation for successful law work."

"Subs can be lawyers."

"Subs can be small time divorce court and property lawyers. If they're lucky. I get perfect scores on the LSATs. I've also passed the bar in New York."

Harvey can't decide if he wants to hire the kid on the spot, consequences be damned, or throw him over the desk and see what’s under that terrible suit. This is quickly evolving into one of the most surprising days of his career.

"So what if I were to give you the job? What would you offer me?"

Mike perks up so high he’s almost as tall as Harvey. Almost.

"Teach me what I need to know and I'll make you look _so_ good. I can tell you like making the other partners jealous."

"I already make them jealous."

"I'm sure you think you do."

 

Mike's insides are fluttering so fast he isn't sure if he’s going to be able to stay standing much longer. What’s happening here? He might be mistaken but he’s pretty damn sure he’s being offered a job. As a junior associate. At Pearson Hardman.

"I have questions for you that I suggest you answer without snark or anymore unnecessary obscenities, Mr. Ross." Harvey radiates dominance so strong Mike has to take a step back.

"When was the last time you were a Sub, publicly?"

"The eighth grade."

"What made you decide to change?"

Mike quickly suppresses the mental replay bumping against his consciousnesses, complete with sound and sensation. He’s never had occasion to be asked that question, but he isn’t stupid enough not to have rehearsed a good half-truth.

"I decided after my best friend and I got beat up behind the gym by a bunch of pubescent Doms."

Harvey nods seriously. "Have you ever scened before?"

Mike grips the edge of the desk while he fishes for words.

"Tell me." Harvey demands.

"No. No, not as a Sub. I've tried to top before, just the basic stuff, but -"

"Didn't work? Maybe it wasn’t really in you."

Mike glares at Harvey's smug expression with malice.

"Then you've never even been taken down?" Harvey comes around the side of the desk and stalks slowly toward Mike.

He's already too close for comfort when Mike finds himself answering. "No. Not really."

"Then you're taking Subspace instead." It really isn’t a question but Mike shakes his head in denial anyway. He needs this job.

"Don't lie to me."

“Some Subs don’t need to be taken down at all,” he says. It’s a statistical improbability that doesn't apply to him, but not a lie.

"Very well. It's a good thing Pearson Hardman only drug tests the Subs. So if we can manage to somehow pass you off as a Dom then it doesn't really matter. That is, only if it doesn't affect your work. Would it?"

"You would let me use?" Mike is incredulous.

Harvey snorts. "If I were your Dom I'd forbid that shit with a full force of discipline behind it. But I'm not your Dom, I'm your boss. A boss who needs you to be in top form so that I don't get myself fired and probably disbarred for hiring a lawyer with a forged blood record and no law degree."

Mike gulps but keeps his eye contact strong.

"Therefore, it wouldn't really be responsible of me to keep you from doing whatever you need to be one hundred percent on the job. Would it?"

"No." Mike just barely leaves off the 'sir' at the end. It surprises him, but not as much as it pleases Harvey who gives him a cocky smile at the near slip.

Mike feels himself being pressed into the desk by the sliver of personal space narrowing between them.

"I bet you've never even been fucked, have you?" Harvey's voice is so deep and low that Mike can't help but whimper embarrassingly. This isn’t good. This really isn’t good. He wants this job to work. He needs it to work. Not just for Gram’s bills but for him too. He’s dreamed of being a lawyer since, God, forever! He’s smart and talented and he’s worked too fucking long to keep himself out of the grasp of some Dom, a Dom who’ll leave him in a suburban duplex wearing a collar while they go off and have a real life. 

That is just not going to happen.

Everything he’s feeling right now is just biology. Biology, biology, biology. Trevor and he used to chant it to themselves whenever things got rough. Biology, biology

“Biology,” he blurts.

“Excuse me?”

Harvey is smiling as if Mike had just made the most hilarious joke.

"I mean. No."

"I thought not."

Mike shakes his head and snaps his Dom face back on while he still can. "No, I mean... No. You can't try to top me. Not ever. And you can’t ask me any more questions about my personal life. Not if it isn’t relevant."

Harvey blinks a couple times, looking back and forth from Mike’s eyes to his lips before he takes three steps back.

"You're right. That was unprofessional of me."

"Just don't play the Dom card. It's not cool. I want this job. It takes first priority over everything."

Harvey eyes narrow as they move down Mike’s body.

"Is that your only suit?"

"Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?"

Harvey laughs. "What's wrong with it? You can't be that fashion stunted, kid. You’re going to have to wear a suit so sharp that you reek of pheromones when you walk out of the elevator in the morning. If you want to work in a nest of lawyers do you really think the act you've been playing will convince them? Not a chance. At least, not for very long. Eventually someone will get suspicious and start digging. Probably Louis.”

With his hands in his pockets Harvey begins walking circles around him. “The first thing we need to work on is your appearance. Subs don’t dress like this. It takes a certain build and confidence to carry a suit well.” He straightens his tie in a mirror as if checking out his own exacting example of the well dressed Dom.

“You _will_ need my help if you're going to have a chance of cutting it."

"But, you think I'll be able to convince them? Really?"

Harvey looks him up and down again with his serious lawyer eyes. It makes Mike itch in a way he’s not exactly sure how to describe. "Yeah, kid. I think you have a shot."

A case of nervous shakes and excited butterflies hits Mike as Harvey begins stacking up the other candidate files, including the guy he pretended to be, and then throws them all in the trash. Harvey leans through a door to his right to tell his secretary - the red headed Dom from the lobby - “Donna, I’m hiring this one. He has no resumé so we’ll have to draft one up before tomorrow.”

Donna doesn’t even seem surprised when she comes in and starts asking Mike questions he’s not sure he’s supposed to answer. But then Harvey is watching him intently over her shoulder so it must be okay.

“Orientation?”

Mike’s so distracted by Harvey’s gaze that he misses her the first time.

“Mr. Ross, orientation is Dom, correct?” She’s grinning up at him like she knows everything. She probably does.

“Of course he’s a Dom. We only hire Doms at Pearson Hardman. It’s good for our powerful traditionalist image.”

“Yes, of course.”

Mike’s pretty sure he’s going to like Donna. A lot.

When she’s finished with her notes Harvey packs up his briefcase and signals to Mike that he should follow him out.

“You’re moving in with me.”

Mike stops in his tracks. “What! Why?” He runs to catch up. “No!”

The platinum blackberry in Harvey’s hand is holding all his attention. His lack of concern for Mike’s oncoming panic attack is annoying.

“Non-negotiable.”

Once they're outside and climbing into the back of Harvey's sleek black car to be driven who knows where, Mike realizes that the briefcase of Subspace is still in his hand. And it's twelve-forty-five.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that the tags for this story do indicate that there will be some minor Harvey/OC. This is a chapter where that's true. Having said that, enjoy!

Mike insists they drop by Trevor's apartment before going anywhere else. Harvey gives him a curious look that lasts about five seconds longer than he’s comfortable with, but eventually he nods and has Mike plug the address into his GPS.

There's something about Harvey in the driver's seat of a car with this much horsepower that has Mike's pulse beating in anticipation and desire blooming up unwanted in the pit of his belly. It must be the roar of the car under him and the way Harvey caresses the wheel without ever losing his assertive grip, as if he has complete and loving control of it. 

"You're staring at me, Mr. Ross."

Mike looks away and gazes instead out the passenger window until they pull up outside Trevor's building.

"Be more than ten minutes and I’ll seriously consider revoking my job offer." Harvey has one arm slung over the back of Mike's annoyingly expensive leather seat.

"No. I won't be."

Harvey seems pleased and amused all at once before giving him the nod to go-on-then. Mike grabs his briefcase from the floor and hurries up the stairs two at a time. Trevor barely has the door open before Mike shoves it into his chest. Jenny is sitting on the couch in her purple sweatpants and a white cotton bra. Her blonde hair is bed-messy and hangs down just to her chin.

"I'm out. Take it all back. I don't want anything to do with this." He whispers it low enough that Jenny can't possibly hear over the hum of the television.

Trevor steps out and partially closes the door behind him.

"Holy fuck, Mike! You didn't deliver it?"

"No. Something came up."

"Something came up?! Are you out of your mind. People get tortured in basements for shit like this."

"I told you, didn't I, that you have a better chance of surviving death row? In Texas," Mike says

Trevor isn't really listening. He's too busy flicking through his iPhone looking for some number for some guy who just might be able to make this problem not be a problem.

"I'm sorry I ever agreed. Really. But, you're on your own now."

If he and Trevor hadn't been friends and confidants of each other's closest kept secrets and sins for a decade, Mike's pretty sure he would have been punched in the nose for this. Instead Trevor just looks irritated, exasperated and at worst - worried.

Mike shifts from one foot to the other and glances over Trevor's shoulder to see Jenny looking right at him. If her expression had been one of confusion before, it turns gentle and sweet, and, if Mike isn't mistaken, just a little bit heated. He'd noticed it before - that she blushes when she thinks he’s looking just at her - but then again Jenny likes to notice and be noticed, particularly by other Doms who normally don't give her the time of day. That's probably why she's started wearing her hair a little longer.

She grins, tucks a piece of it behind one ear and goes back to her television program.

"I shouldn't keep stocking you for free after this," Trevor says, drawing back Mike's attention.

"That's okay. I can start paying you now, " he says with a shrug and a wink, then hurries back down the hall, leaving Trevor no time at all to inquire.

Outside, Harvey is standing against the car looking like a magazine ad for some Dom cologne.

"All done?"

Mike nods and waits while Harvey casually moves away from the passenger side door.

"Should I ask where your briefcase is?"

"No."

Harvey laughs, clicks on the engine, and peels away from the curb and into the New York traffic.

 

 

"I didn't think people, well, normal people, actually lived in places like this," Mike says. He's standing in front of the windowed wall of Harvey's living room with his arms wrapped around himself.

"I've worked long and hard for my lifestyle. And so will you. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Most corporate lawyers do what they do for that very reason."

"I don't really care about penthouses. I just want the opportunity to practice. I think - well, I hope - that it'll be fulfilling enough, in it's own way." He shrugs. "Besides, my grandmother is my most important expense." Mike reaches out and runs his fingers along the top of Harvey's sleek leather couch, the movement exposing his thin and sinewy wrist.

Honestly, Harvey is having a really hard time reminding himself that he's only allowed to think of this, rather striking creature as a business associate. Particularly when he's relaxed and small and deliciously fragile looking. Harvey is used to associates who, although they fear him on some level, would all be capable opponents in a fist fight. Mike, on the other hand, he could pin to the floor in under thirty seconds.

Harvey coughs and turns away to pour them both cold water from the kitchen. Thoughts like that are not going to make professionalism any easier.

"So. It's a nice offer and I get where you're coming from. But, seriously. I'm not moving in with you." Mike has wandered into the kitchen and is leaning on the counter next to the eight hundred dollar blender.

"I thought you liked the view?"

He rolls his eyes. "Can you just call me a cab or whatever. You showed off your nice digs, great show, but I'm tired now and I really just want to get back to my apartment."

Harvey grins, purses his lips and hands Mike the glass. "Come with me, Rookie, before you waste any more time defending your honor."

"I'm not defending my honor!" He says as he follows Harvey out of the kitchen and into the long hall leading from the living room to the front door. "I'm just trying to be reasonable. Your life and my life are not exactly compatible, to say the least."

"What you mean to say of course, is that you refuse to be kept?"

Mike flounders, his hands buried deep in his cheap suit pockets. "Well as long as you put it that way, then, yes."

Harvey nods and plucks a ring of keys off the glass topped table on the opposite wall. They're standing in front of another door just to the right of the entrance complete with standard lock and peep-hole. He slips in the key and swings open the door. Granted, it smells a little stale and dusty inside, but it's still almost too nice for a twenty-something just starting out.

"What is this?"

"Maid's room. Or an income space, I suppose. Never needed it for either. My help comes and goes while I work and I have plenty of income." He smirks.

Mike walks in and looks around with a suspicious expression. The one room studio isn't huge, but what apartment in Manhattan is? It is, however, bright with high ceilings and wood floors. The view is spectacular - the same one Mike had just been admiring. There's a small kitchen with a breakfast bar in chrome accent, and a bathroom that nobody accustomed to living in New York would ever complain about.

"I'd like to offer it to you for monthly rent. Wherever you're living now it's more than likely a shit hole, judging by the obvious state of your current budget. You will also appreciate, I think, being closer to the office."

"Uh huh. And this has nothing at all to do with you wanting to keep an eye on me?"

"Of course it does. You're a huge investment and I have every right to keep tabs on you. The probability of you screwing up is so high it makes my head spin. You have a lot of learning to do and I need access."

Mike stares at him for a long time, contemplating this thoroughly, before nodding. "Yeah, I get that."

"Good. It's settled then."

"No. Wait a minute. What are you asking for rent?"

"What are you paying now?"

"Seven hundred fifty."

"Without utilities?"

Mike nods.

"I'll charge you twelve hundred a month and that includes cable, which is outstanding, of course, and internet. You'll also have access to my laundry service, and, if you'd like, the breakfasts that I have delivered daily. The price is well below anything you could get within twenty blocks of here, even for a studio. On your salary you can more than afford it.” He raises his eyebrows, daring Mike to refuse. “Deal?"

Mike blinks twice. "Okay. Sure."

"I wouldn't want you to feel kept or anything."

"Ha ha. Oh, and speaking of salary."

"If you'd bothered to read the paperwork, you'd have found the offer clearly printed."

"No I read it. I read everything." Mike sticks out his chin and folds his arms over his chest, whether to enhance his feigned dominance or to comfort himself is unclear. "I want a better signing bonus."

"Eighteen thousand is standard."

"I need twenty-five."

"You need twenty-five?" Harvey asks with one raised eyebrow. "You in trouble kid?"

"No," he says. "I want to move my grandmother to a new hospital. One that offers specialty care for Subs. Twenty-five gets her in the door."

The sick grandmother line would have sounded like a ruse on anyone else's lips, but judging by Mike's expression of care and concern and the nervous licking of his lips, Harvey's inclined to believe him.

Very interesting. Mike had been so adamant at the interview about his refusal to take care of his own needs and hormones that Harvey had begun to think he was one of those radical new-age Subs. Subs who claimed submission was simply an evolutionary result of persecution, and that their needs could be willed away with enough effort and herbal tea. But then, maybe that wasn't it at all.

Most people don't really bother to think about the needs of elderly Subs. Nor of elderly Doms, for that matter. But even if many don't complain about it in their old age, Harvey believes the basic needs remain right up until the last breath. He knows. He's beginning to see it with his father.

"Fine. I can make that happen. You'll have the check by the end of the week."

Mike smiles and holds out his hand - delicately boned fingers, soft thin skin. Hopefully no one else at the office will be paying enough attention to notice, or care. Most don't. Most Doms aren't half as interested as Harvey in the aesthetics of the submissive form.

Shit. He needs to scene tonight or he's going to be driven to distraction.

He takes Mike's hand and shakes it to seal the deal.

 

 

Harvey doesn’t approve of prostitution. As in, he won’t pay to scene. However, he doesn’t frown upon Subs who make house calls. After all, if he’s not in the mood to go out hunting, and they’re in the mood to come to him, all the better.

As soon as Harvey had called Ray to drive Mike back home, he phoned one of the more exclusive clubs he has a membership with to schedule a thin Sub with a fair complexion who’s in the mood for light play. Preferably male. That last bit gave the receptionist a pause. He's never before requested a specific gender because he really doesn’t care one way or the other. All good looking Subs have what he needs. In fact, most everyone would agree that gender doesn’t make a difference. Those few who do have a preference are usually strictly one way or the other. Like a fetish.

If this is going to be his last night without the new kid living just a few feet from his living room, he had better work out his frustration now and try to move on.

When the elevator opens Harvey is more disappointed than he’d imagined. The boy is pretty, a little too pretty and he has none of Mike's scruffy collegiate charm. He also has long hair. Way past the shoulders. But Harvey shouldn’t complain, you can’t exactly ask for a short haired Sub without being looked at sideways.

No matter. The Sub is attractive. Very much so. He’ll have no problem working on him. He looks so easy to take down he’s practically melting.

“How do you want me, sir?” He asks with a sly grin. He seems to like what he sees, but who wouldn’t?

“Naked and on your hands and knees. Then you can follow me into the bedroom.”

 

 

Harvey has him kneel in the center of his bedroom floor with his feet and hands cuffed, then gives firm orders to look nowhere except at him. With that done and his Sub for the night settled in beautifully, Harvey relaxes ankle over knee in his bedroom chair to read a crime novel. Occasionally he’ll observe the Sub over the page edges. Even with so little to go on he finally figures out that this one - what had he said his name was? Eden... Evan? No, Ethan - is easy.

Harvey uncuffs him and pulls him up into bed where Ethan dreamily dives straight for Harvey’s cock where his lips wrap luxuriously around him. It's satisfying, but that's the best Harvey can say for it. He's unexcited, and the fire he'd felt just looking at Mike's uncovered wrists was triple what he feels with this Sub fellating him. A few nights ago he would have thought himself a lucky Dom for having such a lovely and experienced Sub in his arms. Tonight, something dramatic has changed and he wishes Ethan were more virginal, more stubborn, more... something.

Once Harvey has come with a perfunctory grunt of completion, he continues well into the night with Ethan draped over his lap for a lazy hand job followed by nothing more than petting. Maybe in the morning they’ll get around to more, but for now, this is fine. Unusually dispassionate, but... fine. He could have Ethan any way he wants - hard and fast, tied up, strapped down, tied upside down would probably even be an option, but Harvey doesn’t have the drive. He’s too distracted.

This kid reminds Harvey so much of one of the few Subs he'd ever had anything resembling a relationship with. He'd been a classmate in Harvey’s poli-sci class sophomore year. His name was Jacob and he wasn't Harvey's type at all but he was good for a conversation, a cup of coffee, or a just a good old fashioned study date. They tried to scene once or twice but it was pretty disastrous. Jacob needed to get hit around a lot harder than Harvey was comfortable with then. He can do it now that he knows his boundaries and can tell when it becomes absolutely necessary to stop, even if a Sub is giving him the green light.

However, even after the two failed attempts to scene they both found themselves enjoying best the company of each other's arms while they slept. That alone would have been enough for Harvey if Jacob weren't so antsy in the morning from a fitful sleep and an inadequate subspace episode.

Eventually they parted ways. He heard somewhere that Jacob had made some sort of ongoing arrangement with one of the grad students who didn't like to hold anything back - which he knew would suit Jacob just fine.

One night, Harvey got a knock on his door and opened it to find Jacob nervously standing in a robe with a light bruise on one cheek and a contented smile.

"She doesn't let me sleep over, and I thought, maybe since you know how much I need to be held after, I could just..."

After that Jacob kept coming by and this continued on through the year. It was a pretty good arrangement. Harvey liked to have a Sub to sleep next to and didn't particularly mind that he hadn't been the one to start the scene so long as he got to finish it. Besides, he was a busy studier and found less and less time to pick up Subs, even on the weekends. But, he should have known it wouldn't last. Looking back he gets it. Stepping in on another Dom's Sub is just about as uncouth as you can get.

After getting into a fist fight with Jacob's Dom in the hallway one night he was more hurt than he wanted to admit when Jacob pushed him away and left without so much as a thank you anyway, sir. He's pretty sure she collared him a couple of months later.

Subs really do need to learn that it's okay to ask for what they need. Even Doms who are trying their best to get it right will miss things. Sometimes big things.

“Sir?”

Harvey hums, already drifting off.

“May I have the cuffs back?” Harvey rolls out of bed and gathers them up off the floor, then lays Ethan out on his stomach. He wraps the cuffs loosely around his ankles and then binds his wrists at the small of his back. Once back in bed Ethan sighs and wiggles over to bury his head under Harvey’s arm.

As he finally falls asleep beside the comfort of a warm body smelling richly and deliciously of post subspace pheromones, he realizes he hasn't for a moment stopped fantasizing about having Mike in this position. It really is only making things worse.

 

 

The next morning Mike wakes early to the alarm on his phone, showers, and goes out to greet a team of moving men Harvey hired. After about two hours he gets the impression that if he doesn't stop helping them that they'll completely lose their sense of purpose. Apparently Harvey paid them to make sure Mike doesn’t break a nail or something. So, he decides to leave them alone. They’re dressed in a sanitary looking but completely irrational shade of white and using neat little cardboard boxes that somehow manage to look more expensive than the average plebeian's moving supplies.

He gathers up his wallet, laptop, and a few essentials. He includes his toothbrush, just in case he can’t find it later. From his desk, he takes a box that once help staples and which now hide a few joints of Subspace. He throws everything in a messenger bag before heading out the door with his bike. Other than the odd joint, he's not the kind of guy to keep anything either expensive, embarrassing or illegal in his apartment to be stolen or reported. But then again, he gets the impression that if these guys found a dead body they would bubble wrap it and deliver without a word.

On the stairs he stops and flicks through the fandango app on his iPhone to find a movie tolerable enough to waste a few hours on. He's just about to hop on his bike and ride to Starbucks for his morning pick-me-up when he gets a call from Jenny, who’s in tears.

 

 

"I didn't know he was selling. I really shouldn't ever speak to you again for not telling me, but I didn't know who else to call."

They're sitting together over a plate of cold bagels somewhere not too far from Trevor's apartment. Jenny looks a mess and judging by the pile of used Kleenex and coffee mugs, she's been here awhile. Her hair is greasy and standing in limp spikes at the back. He hasn't seen her without at least a little bit of makeup before so she also looks rather pale and drawn. She's sniffling into the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"They came to the apartment and I answered. It was so scary, Mike. They had guns and everything."

Mike takes a deep breath and says, "that's probably my fault. I agreed to deliver something for him as a one off and I changed my mind at the last minute."

Jenny doesn't seem too surprised. "I know. But it's not your fault, you made the right decision."

Trevor has managed to keep not only the drugs a secret from Jenny, but also his orientation. Jenny, dominant but gay, hates to scene in the traditional sense but does like to have sex with other Doms. She also likes to smoke subspace on a strictly recreational basis - no more than once a month or so, according to Trevor.

Unlike the calming effect it has on Subs, subspace gives Doms a sort of high, causing them to float above subconsciousness until everything is just a little surreal. Regardless, it hasn't really gained any popularity with Doms - mostly because of the demeaning connotations. For Jenny, it just makes her feel like even more of a rebel. And as far as she's concerned Trevor is just like her - Dom, gay, and into plain old fucking more than anything else. As a bonus he doesn't even give her much hassle about being on top most of the time. And if Trevor's just a little bit more addicted to weird recreational drug use, then whatever. Nobody's perfect.

"Has he been selling all this time?" She asks weakly.

"He's been selling on and off since we were kids."

Jenny nods. "I'm so stupid. How did I not notice? I really did think he worked writing fucking computer code!"

“He used to be great at it, before. He could make decent money if he went back.”

She laughs and doesn’t say anything for a while. Once the silence becomes uncomfortable Mike resorts to poking holes in his cream cheese with a straw.

“If I can get him to stop. If I stay with him. Will you promise to tell me when he starts selling again?”

“When? Not if?”

“I’m not stupid Mike. I might have terrible taste in partners, but I’m not stupid.”


	4. Chapter 4

After a too quick visit to see his Gram where he excitedly shows her a website for the new care center he'll be putting a down payment on, Mike bikes over to Harvey's apartment. Well, _his_ apartment.

The sun is almost set and the commuting traffic is dying down enough that it almost feels quiet in this part of the city. He's excited to be living so high above the streets that for the first time in his life he won't have to wake every morning to the sound of taxi horns.

Judging by the sour look the doorman gives him, rolling a cheap and dirty bicycle through the marble lobby and straight into the elevator isn't really such a great idea for the future. But Mike gives him a winning smile anyway, and soldiers on as if he owns the place.

Once in the front hallway, just outside his own door, Mike looks cautiously around for signs of Harvey. All the lights are off and there are no sounds coming from the rooms in the back of the apartment. He checks his watch - 7:45. So apparently Harvey's a late worker. That probably means Mike will be too.

Feeling relieved that he won't have the attention of his new boss he opens his door and grins. Harvey really did go all out with those movers. Although, this is probably what someone like Harvey expects in which case - it figures. He doesn't exactly seem like the kind of guy who has ever had to pack up his own stuff in a friend of a friend's pick-up-truck, only to sit around for half a year in a mess of unpacked boxes and dust, too lazy to tackle the moving-in process.

Everything that had previously been haphazardly tossed around his apartment is now neatly organized. His bed is placed against the fantastic windowed wall and upon closer inspection he can smell freshly laundered linens on the bed. The rug from his grandmother has been cleaned and placed in the center of the room with his coffee table and couch arranged around it. His old box television is attached to a complicated looking cable system with a remote that might require a manual just to locate the power button, and his bookshelves are lined up in a row. But his books, thank god, are still in five or six well packed boxes. They must have gotten the memo this morning that messing up his books was not on.

The refrigerator is stocked with a few essentials - milk, bread, eggs, beer. And yet, even with all his things unpacked the space still looks too big. Bigger at least than anything he's had all to himself before.

Eventually Mike sits in front of the bookshelves with an open beer bottle next to him and the television switched on to some news show he can't really hear, but the sound is comforting anyway.

It must be close to ten when Harvey knocks on his door.

"You all settled in?" Harvey looks tired and there are clear signs of stress in the bags under his eyes. He's leaning with one arm against the doorframe.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks so much for everything. The movers you hired were magicians."

"Yes. The best in New York."

The lines around Harvey’s face are deep and drawn and something about the lack of color in his complexion makes Mike chew at his lip in concern. He suppresses the urge to drop his eyes and stay out of business that's not his own like a good Sub, while he builds up the nerve to ask the obvious.

"Hey, are you alright? You look really worn out."

Harvey stiffens to his full high in that way Doms can do without thinking, but Mike can't no matter how hard he tries.

"I'm fine. Being a corporate lawyer is hard work. Remember that." He wipes a strong hand down his face as if to wipe off the unwanted expression that had caused Mike's concern. "I filed your hire papers at the office today. Donna wrote in that you need two weeks to quit your former job. That way I have time to prep you before I throw you into the lion’s den. You start a week from Monday. Get a good night's sleep because I'm leaving you enough reading for the whole week and I want it done before Thursday morning when I bring in the next load." He hands Mike a folder he hadn't noticed before with a pen attached. "A contract for your lease. Sign it if everything looks satisfactory and leave it on the hall table. I'll pick it up on my way out tomorrow." And with that he's gone into the kitchen where Mike can hear him banging around like the pots and pans have somehow offended him.

When Mike wakes the next morning, slightly groggy, Harvey is already gone and there are eight full boxes of paperwork sitting in front of his door. He sighs, brews himself a cup of coffee and settles into his well worn couch for the day. Probably the night. No, definitely the night.

He finally gets to bed sometime around five and wakes again at eight to start with the next set. This time he's happy to find only four boxes.

So far it seems Harvey has loaded him down with copies of all the firm's most important client paperwork, original and revised. He has no doubt that there's so much more it would make his head spin. But for now he's happy to go one box at a time. As he approaches each document he finds a place to file it away in his complicated mental library so he can access it again without too much muddling around. When he was a kid without good organizational skills, his teachers had thought he was seriously learning impaired. He'd memorize one book and then get it mixed up with another when asked. It's taken most of his life to develop a system that turns what might otherwise be a handicap into a tool.

On Thursday night Mike sets down his last file and stretches. It's almost eleven and he can hear Harvey watching television in the living room.

Not wanting to spend another second in his own head, a head that's just learned so much new information it feels like static, he goes out and stands, silently watching Harvey. He's out of his high end corporate suit that Mike now realizes he's only ever seen him in. He's wearing a pair of black silk pants that hang on his muscled legs in a way Mike really can't dwell on, and a snug but soft looking t-shirt. He has one foot up on the coffee table where a tumbler of amber colored liquor is sitting on a coaster.

CNN is on but his eyes are focused off to the side. The lines of his face are drawn and worried. Finally he notices Mike and whatever he'd been thinking is seemingly forgotten and his frown curls up into a smile.

"Taking a break, or just spying on me?" 

"No, I'm finished. I needed a change of scenery."

His eyes widen. "You've read all of it. Everything?"

"Are you impressed?"

"Yes, actually. I was trying to intimidate you in true asshole fashion. I didn't think you'd actually do it. Good work rookie."

The praise does something pleasant to Mike's insides. "Thanks."

"You want a scotch?" Harvey's already standing and walking past him to the liquor cabinet and bar on the other side of the room. Mike nods and can't help but admire the way the silk pants emphasize the firm muscles in his ass and thighs when he crouches down to pull a crystal bottle out of the lower cabinet.

He brings the glass to Mike and gestures to his couch. "You can stay if you'd like. I'll even let you choose the channel so long as I don't find out you're a closet reality TV addict."

Mike makes a face at the suggestion before moving hesitantly closer. Something about Harvey's easy disposition tonight is so comforting he can't really resist.

"The Colbert Report will be on soon."

"Acceptable choice."

Mike sits down at the other end, leaving enough space between them that it doesn't seem as awkward as it should. Two Doms enjoying late night comedy is one thing, but when one of those Doms is secretly a Sub, things get... complicated. Well, Harvey _has_ been true to his promise to keep it professional, and, so far so good. Now Mike just has to do the same.

Mike is simultaneously nervous and - god help him - happy sitting here, not two feet away from the only Dom who has ever made him seriously feel like faltering. Something about the presence of Harvey, or the scent of him, or just the plain knowledge of his existence gives Mike that feeling as though nothing bad can happen to him so long as he stays close. It's weird and wonderful and just a little terrifying.

“I hoped after reading the files that you’d feel less apprehensive. With so little experience I thought it best to give you a foot up.”

“Yes, I think it will. Thanks.”

Harvey grins and stretches his strong legs out in front of him. Mike can’t help but glance down and stare.

“Was your grandmother happy?”

Mike looks up and catches his eye. “Sorry?”

“You went to see her today?”

“Yeah, but -” he narrows his eyes. “How did you know?”

Harvey shrugs and takes a swig of his drink. He points at Mike’s glass and Mike follows the wordless command to join.

“She was very happy. She doesn’t believe I can afford it, but she will once I tell her about the new job.” He takes another sip. It’s strong and velvety against the back of his throat.

“Well, why didn’t you tell her today? You must want to brag.”

Mike shrugs. “It’ll take a lot of explaining, won’t it? And besides... it might be best to give it some time.”

“Are you afraid I’m going to realize you’re not worth it and fire you just as soon as you begin?”

Mike takes a big swallow and looks the other way.

“Don’t worry kid. That’s not going to happen. You’re much more impressive than you think.”

He laughs when Mike blushes.

“I’m just hot. From the whiskey.”

They fall into a companionable silence as the show begins. After they’ve both finished off their drinks, Mike settles in happily. The stress lines that had riddled Harvey’s face just a few nights ago are smoothing away and a smile is tugging at his lips as he watches the show, occasionally glancing at Mike to see if he shares in his amusement.

Somewhere around the second commercial break Mike nods off. It might have been the lack of sleep, or maybe it was that pleasant feeling of contentment . When he wakes his head is resting on the back of the couch and his nose is just a few inches away from Harvey's shoulder. He sits up fast and looks around.

Harvey is pretending not to notice the panic. "Did my project wear you out?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

The space between Harvey and him suddenly seems a whole lot narrower. Who moved? God, he hopes it wasn't him.

Harvey's arm is slung over the back of the couch and Mike realizes that if he’d been a few inches closer, or if Harvey had let his arm fall down around him, he would have been sleeping in the circle of his new boss's arms. Shit. That idea really shouldn't be so delicious.

He stands and brushes the nonexistent wrinkles from his jeans. "I should go to bed."

"You should. And so should I. Good night rookie."

Mike nods sleepily as he backs out of the living room and dashes into his room in a not very dominant, or even mature way at all.

In the morning Mike opens the door of his room, coffee in hand, and finds not a single box. There is, however, a note.

_Take the day off Rookie. Tomorrow we're going suit shopping._

 

 

"If you don't take off your clothes we can't measure, and if we can't measure we certainly can't fit you with a suit. I am a wonderfully skilled tailor Mr. Ross, but I'm afraid I cannot measure you with my eyes alone." The tailor Harvey brought him to is tapping his fingers against his arm while two Subs stand behind him looking equally annoyed. Mike really needs Harvey to finish his phone call and get back inside.

"Really Mr. Ross, you don't have to remove everything."

Mike holds up one finger and gestures outside. "I'm sorry, but can I just - "

The tailor gives his assistants a long suffering look. "Go ahead."

Mike smiles awkwardly before hurrying outside.

"What is it? Why aren't you being dressed?" Harvey asks with one hand over his phone.

"Who are you talking to?"

"Donna. Not that it's any of your business."

"They want me to undress."

"So? Don't be a child."

"Harvey! It's a tailor for Doms, and to be specific a tailor that, as you say, services not just you but several employees at Pearson Hardman. Excuse me for not wanting to expose my dirty little secret just so I can have a perfectly fitted suit."

Harvey drops the phone to his side and gives Mike a squeeze on the shoulder. "You really are a rookie at this, aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think you're the one and only Sub who has ever needed to pass themselves off as a Dom? No. And that's why I brought you here. René is the finest tailor in the city and what he knows how to do best is cut a suit that will make its wearer look just exactly the way they want to look. Without him, your skinny ass will raise questions. With him, your skinny ass will create a streamline fad among Doms everywhere. And besides, he's is the most discreet person I know. He's famous for it. Now go inside and be good."

Oh. Mike doesn't have time to say anything in reply because Harvey's already on the phone again. He wanders back inside and strips to his boxers.

"Finally," René says as he comes at him with a tape measure.

"We'll start a selection that hides shoulder pads. And let's think about vests. They add bulk." One of the Subs disappears while the other takes notes from René’s whispered measurements. At no point do they look surprised to find a Sub's body under his layers, so Mike eventually stops thinking about it all together.

 

 

He feels like a fucking bride standing on a platform in front of Harvey who looks about as cool, collected, and amused as it's possible to be. He just hopes Harvey understands how much he really really hates him right now.

"The shoulder pads are the best, absolutely undetectable even by touch." Renée points to Mike's shoulders with the tip of his scissors and demonstrates to Harvey something about long seams and stiff shirt collars and thick ties and blah blah blah. After five hours in this place he really should look enough like a Dom for Harvey's satisfaction. He wants to go home.

"I can pad the crotch as well if you want to be very specific."

"What!? No!" Mike is suddenly and intently re-engaged in the conversation. "Fuck, no. There's no way. Besides, I'm perfectly happy with my - " he gestures downward.

Harvey smirks and shrugs at René who looks completely scandalized by Mike's outburst.

"Well, alright. Even without he does look stunning." René and Harvey are now both looking him up and down as if calculating his net worth and success ratio in their heads.

"I wish I could fit him in a Sub's suit. He has almost the perfect shape. I could make him into a masterpiece."

Really, if he has to stand on his feet for one more second he's going to kill someone.

Harvey stands up and pulls out his checkbook. "I agree with you René, he would look a masterpiece." He peers up at Mike and winks.

What? Wait... what!?

"But let's stick with what we have. If the opportunity ever arises I'll be sure to contact you." He signs a check and hands it over. "I trust the price is what we agreed upon."

"Just under."

Harvey nods and René disappears.

"I wish you hadn't done that. I can pay you back soon."

"Not necessary. Consider it part of your signing bonus."

Mike shakes his head as the two assistants help him out of his jacket and pants. Harvey is mostly looking down at his phone but Mike doesn't miss Harvey’s occasional glances up at him while he's in only boxers and an undershirt.

"The signing bonus is already more than you initially offered but at least that comes from the firm. This is you. Your money. I don't feel comfortable letting you buy me things."

"Listen Rookie, I'm not about to start sending you expensive chocolates, Rolexes and little white dogs, but you are my personal investment and as such I have the right to make sure you don't disappoint. Because if you do, it's on me. And I won't have that."

The assistants hand him his jeans and sweatshirt with a look of guarded disgust before scurrying out of the fitting room. He's happy to finally have something familiar and firmly NOT of masterpiece quality if it means escaping Harvey's attention for a while. It was making it very hard for Mike to stay _professional_.

"If I ask how much six suits from this place cost, you aren't going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope."

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

 

 

The rest of the weekend continues just as it started - with Harvey dragging Mike around to shops for clothes and cologne that will hide 'that Sub smell' Harvey keeps talking about. Should he be taking that as some kind of insult?

"Trust me, Mike. It's not a bad thing. You just don't want the other associates to start noticing. There's no personal space in a busy office."

Then on Sunday night Harvey forces Mike to get as spiffed up as possible - which isn't easy considering his suits won't be ready for another week - and they go out together to observe the behavior of Doms in the wild at a few local bars and clubs.

"Look at her. She doesn't walk with her breasts thrown out in front of her. You try so hard to keep your posture erect that it starts to look forced and uncomfortable. For a Dom posture is natural. We carry ourselves without thinking about it."

Harvey leans in close to Mike's ear to talk over the beat of the dance club. "Nobody is going to doubt you based on appearance alone."

"You did!"

"I'm an exception, and I don't see that happening again. If it does, your behavior and mannerisms will make them forget all about it on second glance. The key is confidence. Walk with it, talk with it, even sit with it. A Dom doesn't stutter, have nervous eyes or wring their hands. It's endearing on a Sub, but it looks weak on a Dom."

Mike looks over at him and their noses almost touch.

"Subs aren't weak."

Harvey's breath is hot against his lips. "I agree. So, prove it."

 

 

Monday morning Harvey wakes up late and with a hangover. He barely has time to finish tying his tie on the way out the door, which is why he's not looking up when Mike's door opens and Harvey almost trips on him as he walks out with his coffee.

"Shit. If you'd spilled that on my suit, I don't think I could forgive you."

"Sorry." 

Harvey looks up and finds Mike sleepy eyed in a way that has him fantasizing too much about what his dreamy subspace face would be. Fuck.

He's standing in nothing but his boxers and a pair of socks.

"Did you need something?"

"You said you were leaving employee files for me to read? Remember? So I’ll know who's who in the lion’s den?"

"Yes, of course. I almost forgot." He hurries back into the living room and picks up the box of files. Just one this time. Mike should be done in a couple of hours.

"I might test you."

"Easy. I'm great at tests."

Harvey practically has to wipe his brow just from thinking about all the more intimate tests he wants to give Mike.

Donna stays late with him at the office that night and they eat Chinese. It's almost eight-thirty now and quiet except for the sound of them murmuring over the paperwork for Harvey's most recent headache of a client, and the sound of jazz on the turntable.

"You look exhausted."

Harvey lifts his head up off the desk and grunts. "Hard to sleep well when you're sexually frustrated."

"You? That's a new one."

Harvey takes a sip of the tea Donna had made. It's cold now.

"The new kid is practically purring for it and I can't touch."

Donna smiles from ear to ear and sits up with her elbows on the desk. "Have you tried seducing him? If you don't, I will."

"You do and you're fired." Donna pouts. "And besides, I promised I wouldn't try to top him."

"Promises. Promises. Did that ever stop you before?"

Harvey sighs and lays his head back down on the desk.

"Well at least go pick up a Sub to sleep with tonight. You can't work tomorrow like this."

"No. I don't have the energy to look."

"So, don't you keep _anyone_ on file, Mr. One-Night-Stand?"

Harvey shakes his head but then remembers something. The Sub he called in last week. The blonde who liked to be held. He left his number on the side of a cereal box in the apartment.

Harvey jumps up and grabs his suit jacket and keys. "Thank you Donna for the late night party, but I think I have a date."

 

 

Mike is just getting to bed when he hears Harvey's front door open.

He would like to say that he couldn't care less who comes and goes in Harvey's life, and it's mostly true, but at quarter past eleven Mike can't help but be curious.

With all of his lights off and virtual silence from inside Mike's room, there really isn't any reason why Harvey would think he's awake, which is probably why he isn't worried about talking in the hall just outside his door. On some nights Mike likes to just stay in bed with his eyes closed and read books from memory or replay television shows and movies he hasn't seen since he was a kid. It's cheaper than Netflix.

Mike stands quietly and walks to his front door to press his ear against it. When he doesn't hear anything he almost goes back to bed before he remembers about the peep hole. Quietly, so as not to bump against the door, Mike looks through.

With his back against the wall on just the opposite side, Harvey stands, mouth open and panting as a blonde Sub kneels at his feet, hands clasped behind his back, and bobs up and down over Harvey's erection.

The scene forces Mike to cover his mouth to hold back the sound about to emerge. He's not sure if it's a moan of pleasure at seeing Harvey hard, powerful and undone, or of despair because another Sub is at Harvey's feet instead of him. Of course Mike knows that his boss, the man he's known for a week, and a Dom who he specifically asked to keep his hands off, is not someone he has claims on. But he can't help but feel ownership. Jealousy. Lust.

Just as Mike is about to pull away Harvey grabs fistfuls of the Sub’s hair, looks up, and stares straight at Mike.

Whether or not Harvey knows he’s standing looking back is unclear, but what is clear, at least to Mike, is that in that moment Harvey is fantasizing just as intently about him as he is about Harvey.

Harvey finally leans his head back against the wall and, gritting his teeth, pulls the Sub off him then drags him up. He caresses his hair and neck and shoulders and holds him close while whispering something in his ear that Mike can't make out. The Sub keeps his hands clasped behind him and his head bowed low as possible in a form Mike realizes is envy worthy. The Sub’s breathing gets heavier and his movements more needy with every whisper and caress. As Harvey continues to pet him a growing urge forms within Mike to break through the door and throw himself at Harvey's feet, to give himself the opportunity to hear what orders, directions and encouragement this other Sub has earned, but he never will. He wants to breathe against Harvey's neck. To taste his sweat as he kisses Harvey’s collar. To know what it feels like, for the first time in his life, to slip away into subspace at the hand of a Dom. The most natural and wonderful feeling that he knows, instinctively, is infinitely better when it isn't chemically induced.

Mike finally pulls himself away and collapses in bed with one hand wrapped around his cock and the other grasping tight to the railing as if it were shackled there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for a bit of angst here. But don't worry dear readers, the story isn't going to get dark. I promise!
> 
> Enjoy!

When Harvey wakes he's disappointed to find the left side of his bed cold. Ethan is gone. He likes a Sub who waits for instruction before leaving his bed, but he didn't say anything specific about it, so he really can't complain. Besides, overall Ethan makes for a good scene. Not good enough to quench the desires he’s been harboring since meeting Mike, but definitely worth keeping on file. Ethan’s not the type to cling or obsess or expect more affection than he’s given. In other words, Harvey can have this one around occasionally without having to worry about attachment.

He stretches as he gets out of bed, still naked, and pads through the house with blurry eyes to grab a cup of coffee that will have already brewed in his automatic machine.

"Harvey!"

He blinks and looks to his right where Mike and Ethan are sitting across from each other with their own cups of coffee looking like reluctant friends. Ethan grins sweetly at him and glances suggestively downward - it would seem he has a special fondness for Harvey’s cock.

"You two making friends?" he asks as he continues on his way to the kitchen. Mike stutters something inaudible behind him. He pours a cup, adds a bit of skim milk, and comes back in to plop unceremoniously with his arm around Ethan who sighs and relaxes against him like a cat.

Mike looks completely scandalized. "For fucks sake Harvey! Don't you have any modesty?"

"Well, I don't know Mike, should I? Last time I checked this is my personal living room. And you’re the one who decided to come out and sit in it.” He takes a sip and cringes at the bitterness. He needs to set the brew time for later. “I could have sworn you had your own couch."

Mike’s mouth hangs open a little and he sputters his words in a way that would clue anyone into his orientation if they bothered to really pay attention. "I'm sorry, Harvey" he says quietly. His eyes drop to his lap in an instinctual sign of submission that has Harvey's blood rushing to his groin. After a few seconds Mike’s eyes raise just slightly - enough to get another look at his body, if Harvey’s not mistaken.

He's always been reasonably proud and comfortable with his appearance, and having Mike here doesn't change that. If anything it gives him a thrill. The kid doesn't know how to hide a thing and what he's not hiding now is arousal and a fierce determination to maintain his dominant facade. A facade that’s slowly slipping in the face of unparalleled temptation. If he were Mike's Dom, which he's not, he would take his chin in hand, lift him up, and kiss him until he brought forth that irresistible smile.

"Don't be sorry. You're welcome any time. That is under the condition that you respect my guests and manner of living."

"I do." He defends.

From his lap where Ethan has fallen, he rubs his head against Harvey’s unclothed cock and grins when it earns him a twitch of appreciation. Harvey runs gentle fingers through Ethan’s hair before returning his attention to Mike. "What were you two talking about?"

He shrugs and takes a sip of coffee. "Nothing much. My old coffee machine gave out. I guess the move finally did it in. I smelled yours and... I didn't think you'd mind."

"No, of course not."

"Ethan was doing the same and it seemed rude not to introduce myself."

Upon hearing his name Ethan snuggles closer and whispers "I didn't think you were the type to loan out but I thought I'd check out the prospects. I don't have to, do I? He's too skinny."

Harvey laughs and Mike gives him a confused look.

"Don't worry, I don't think you're Mike's type."

"I'm every Dom's type. I'm beautiful." Mike rolls his eyes and glares at him with pure venom.

"Your immodesty doesn't suit you, pet," Harvey says, but Ethan just grunts and relaxes again into his caresses. He's still not sure if Ethan really is just this responsive to simple touch or if he's one of those extraordinarily easy Subs who needs little more than the touch and scent of a Dom to drift into their headspace.

After a while they fall into domestic silence as they each sip their coffee and try to avoid conversation. It would be a lovely early morning repose if it weren't for Mike's tapping heel on the floor and his too loud slurps.

Harvey checks the time and bends down to kiss Ethan. "Time to go. I have to work." Ethan nods in understanding and lifts himself up drowsily from the couch. It only takes him another thirty seconds to find his pants and shoes in the bedroom and he's out with a wink at Mike as he passes.

"I didn't realize you liked them so bitchy," Mike says with disdain once the front door shuts.

Harvey shakes his head and grins. "I like Subs in every size, shape and style, and besides, he wouldn't dare be _bitchy_ with me. He must smell the competition on you."

"I'm no competition for any Sub."

"No?"

Mike narrows his eyes and crosses his arms a little too tightly. "No."

"Well, then. You needn't look so jealous." He stands up and gathers the cups to bring to the dishwasher.

"Jealous! You must be fucking demented to think I’d give up what I’ve fought for just to have a pathetic one night stand with you."

_No, it wouldn't be that,_ Harvey thinks. _I couldn't give you up that quickly._

He closes the dishwasher with a snap and wanders back into the living room. By now Mike must have either forgotten to be distracted by his nudity or else he's too furious to care because he's finally keeping firm eye contact. As good as a Dom, in fact. He wishes they weren't arguing so he could praise him for the work well done.

"I don't think you'd find a night with me to be pathetic."

"You really are a piece of work. How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not interested in you. Or any Dom."

"You know what, if you're so disgusted by the idea then why don't you do what a Dom does. Go out and pick up a Sub.”

"You don't think I could?"

"Frankly? No."

"Fuck you. I could totally do it."

"Good. Tonight?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

 

 

As far as Dom pick up skills go there's hopeless, and then there's Mike. But then again, Mike isn't a Dom at all so why should he be surprised?

Harvey took Mike to a club near NYU that he used to frequent while he was still an associate himself. The crowd is mostly young, drunk and easy. If Mike’s going to have any chance it'll be here. Although apparently tonight's batch of Subs are particularly difficult to pull judging by how many disappointed, offended, and just plain embarrassed looks Mike is receiving after everyone he talks to. Or, maybe Mike is just about as unappealing as Harvey suspects he would be to another Sub. Instincts exist for a reason.

Harvey's leaning against the bar and slowly sipping his second scotch and water. He doesn't want to get drunk, but he does need _something_ to do while he waits the agreed upon two hours for Mike to find a Sub who will agree to go home with him. It's been over an hour and a half and he's looking forward to the breakfast Mike will have to make him when Harvey wins the bet.

An attractive Sub down the bar smiles seductively at him but he politely ignores it. He doesn't have the energy.

"Looks like you'll have to learn to turn on the stove, Harvey, cause I got one." He turns around and narrows his eyes at a very cocky looking Mike.

"You picked up a Sub? Where?" Mike turns and points to a group of young Subs huddled in a corner of the dance floor.

"The brunette. With the curls," he tells him. She turns and smiles in their direction.

"Oh, come on Mike! She looks eighteen! No wonder she likes you, she's used to pubescent Doms with no chest hair."

"Ouch. But, you never said anything about age. I picked her up in under two hours, so read it and weep."

"Okay. You win. Now go give her your apologies so we can leave. I'm tired."

Mike folds his arms over his chest and juts his chin out. Really, all things considered, Mike has been in excellent form tonight. His mannerisms are about as perfect as they're likely to get. Righteous indignation does wonders for his Dom face. Harvey will have to remember that for the future.

"Give April a minute, she has to say goodbye to her friends."

Harvey puts his glass down on the counter.

"Mike, don't be a fool. You’re not seriously taking her home with you? You can't."

"I can, and I am. And don't tell me what I can't do."

"I'm not telling you what to do, I'm cautioning you." Mike looks up at him with a scowl. "You and I are built differently for a reason. We're designed the way we are so we're equipped to take care of each other’s needs.”

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? To think that I need you."

_Yes. Good god, yes._

"I didn't say that." Harvey presses his thumbs into his temples to ward off an oncoming headache. "I'm saying that you've made your point, now leave it. You don't need to put yourself in a situation you can't handle. I think you make a good Dom, I do. In fact, I was very impressed tonight."

"I can handle it," he says, ignoring the compliment. Harvey sighs deeply. The kid really needs a spanking right now. He needs to be taken down a few notches so badly it hurts Harvey to watch him fizzle helplessly.

"I know you think you can, Mike, and that's admirable."

They stand together silently until the girl wanders over. She has a sweet smile and a small curvaceous frame, but Harvey's not really paying attention and neither is she. She's too focused on Mike.

They push through the club until they finally find fresh air. Mike and the girl disappear into the crowd of people on the street while Harvey gets into a cab and makes his way home, alone.

Once safely in his apartment, Harvey collapses in bed without bothering to change into anything other than the boxers and undershirt he’d worn all day. He can’t fall asleep due to the antsy frustrated energy fizzing under his skin from being close to Mike all night without being able to do anything but watch him blindly flounder about. He reaches into his boxers and grasps his cock with a groan. Fuck. He throws an arm over his face and strokes himself to the helpless images that keep rising to the surface. Images of Mike on his knees, panting for his hands, his lips, his cock, his whip. Fuck _fuck_. Harvey bites into the skin of his arm and comes all over his clothed stomach.

He wrinkles his nose at the mess, rips off the undershirt, and tosses it across the room.

This needs to stop. Eventually something is going to snap. He just hopes it’s soon.

 

 

Harvey wakes from his already fitful sleep to find Mike hovering over him with a look of pure panic. "Harvey, help."

"What is it?" He puts his hand over his eyes to bloxk the sudden light from the hallway.

"She's crying. She's just sobbing, and I don't know what to do."

Harvey quickly swings his legs over the bed and goes to find his bathrobe. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! I just told her to get on her knees and she burst into tears when I tried to touch her.

"And you left her alone, crying? Jesus, Mike." He pushes each arm into the robe and ties it haphazardly.

"I'm sorry! I just," he's breathing labored frustrated breaths, "don't know what to do!"

They’re both in the narrow bedroom doorway when Harvey turns on him and pins him to the wall. "Of course you don't, and why should you? I hope this teaches you a lesson, I really do. You want to play the Dom in the office, fine, I get it. Workplace equality is fucked up. But keep it out of the bedroom or you're going to seriously mess with people’s heads, including your own."

Mike gulps and lowers his eyes so slowly Harvey's sure it's an intentional sign of submission. "I know. You're right, and I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to her. Come on."

Mike trails behind him and into the dimly lit room. The girl is kneeling and naked except for a pillow she has clutched to her chest. She's shaking so hard Harvey can't not go to her and pull her into his lap.

"I'm Harvey," he whispers, "Mike's roommate. Now, calm down. You haven't done anything wrong. You're a good girl."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are, and Mike thinks so too. You were so good for him. He told me how proud he is of you." Harvey looks up at Mike to see if he's going to acknowledge the situation, but he's still hovering in the doorway looking shell shocked and a little green.

"He also told me how beautiful he thinks you are. He couldn't keep his eyes off you." Her breathing starts to even out but she's still hiccuping tears. He needs to get her permission to take over so he can get to the bottom of this.

"Mike came to apologize to you and I came to ask if you'll let me be with you instead tonight."

She looks up at him with tear soaked eyes. God, she's so young!

"He doesn't want me?"

Harvey doesn't see him move, but suddenly Mike is kneeling next to them and the sight is so unexpected and wonderful that his breath catches in his throat. If he had the luxury to, he'd be wishing he could pull the other body onto his lap instead. But he doesn't. The Dom in him is focused on the hurting Sub in his arms and instincts insure him that’s all that really matters.

"April, I want you very much, I do. But, I can't be good for you right now, even though your’re being so good for me. Do you understand? I'm really sorry."

Mike looks up at him for approval and he smiles. _Good boy._

"Harvey is the best Dom I know. He's way better than I am. Do you trust me to leave you with him?" She nods and puts her head down on Harvey's chest. She's exhausted and needs sleep, but who knows how long it’ll take to get her there.

Mike stands up and backs out of the room. He's still wearing the dark jeans from earlier but his feet are bare and fragile looking. He stands in the doorway and stares at the two of them. Harvey wishes he could see his expression but the light from the hallway makes him into nothing but a silhouette.

Finally the door shuts and Harvey gets to work, refusing to think once of Mike.

 

 

When Mike finally wakes up on Harvey’s couch with a stiff back and splitting headache, it’s after eleven in the afternoon. He can barely see the glowing numbers on the cable box. He throws off the blanket he found at the foot of Harvey’s bed and takes the pillow he’s borrowed under arm. Half way down the hall a voice calls out from a room Mike hadn’t noticed before.

“You sure slept well.”

Mike turns and looks into a small personal office. It’s dark apart from the reading lamp Harvey has flipped on over a tall stack of papers and his own personal laptop. There are no windows and it makes the room seem too claustrophobic for two people, but Mike walks in anyway, wary of being in close quarters with a Dom he’s pretty sure is just about as pissed off with him as it’s possible to be. He drops the pile of blankets and pillow on the floor.

“Thanks. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Harvey nods once. “You don’t work today?”

“Yes. I should be at work now in fact.” He clicks the ball point pen he’s holding and turns in his desk chair to cross his legs. “But because of you I had another job to deal with that kept both your Sub and me up until five.

”  Shit.” He covers his eyes with a hand and rubs at the gravely residue. He’s not going to admit that the girl wasn’t the only one crying last night, but Harvey probably already deduced that. “I’m so sorry, Harvey. Was she okay?”

“Yes, and no. It was her first time since being de-collared by her last Dom. Sometimes young bonds are weak and fleeting at best, but not always, and she has the tendency to bottle up emotions. It was a good thing I was here.”

“Yeah, I know.” He laughs nervously. “It would figure that I’d pick out the most high maintenance Sub in the place.”

“High maintenance? You say it like it’s an inconvenience. Unless a Sub is being manipulative, which is usually just another cry for help, the more work a Dom has to put into a Sub, the more rewarding. You would know that if you hadn’t kept your head buried in the sand all these years.”

Mike wraps his arms around himself. “I know I screwed up, okay? I feel sick about it, but you don’t have to get nasty. I have reasons for keeping a fair distance from Doms, so don’t pretend to know what it’s like to be me. You might be good at reading Subs, but that doesn’t mean you understand us and what we go through.”

Harvey claps his hands together in a mock applaud. “Bravo. That’s the first time I’ve heard you acknowledge it.”

“What?”

“Who you are.”

“I know exactly who I am, Harvey! And I also know how dangerous it is to be me.”

Mike’s anger is fizzling and if he doesn’t get out of Harvey’s sight he’ll be at seriously high risk of exploding, and that will give Harvey way too much satisfaction.

“Don’t be a drama queen. Besides, you’ve been hiding for so long, how would you know about a Sub's trials and tribulations?” Harvey brushes him off and turns in his chair to hunch back down over his work.

Mike just stands there silently for so long he’s pretty sure Harvey thinks he’s left. The tears from last night are threatening again behind his eyes, and his body is trembling so hard he can’t even get his arms to stay still long enough to wrap them around himself.

It might not be a good idea - in fact, it’s probably the worst idea Mike has ever had, but suddenly it just seems like the right thing to say, if for no other reason than because Mike really _really_ needs Harvey to know what an ignorant douche bag he is.

“Remember how I said my friend and I were beaten up by Doms in the eighth grade?” Harvey turns around again with narrowed eyes. “I lied. Trevor and I were barely thirteen when we were gang raped at our school. For over an hour. We were so small they didn't even need to tie us up.” Harvey closes his eyes and Mike can see the regret there. “So please, don’t talk to me about what I don’t know.”

Harvey stands up suddenly from his seat with worried eyes but Mike is already taking big steps backwards. Mike turns and hurries down the hall until he’s safely behind his own locked door.

He’s ripping through a drawer of phone chargers and spare pens looking for the staple box where he hides his Subspace joints when Harvey starts knocking.

“Mike, let me in.”

Mike slides down the wall and lands on the floor with a lighter in his shaking hand. He burns the tip of his finger a little while lighting the joint, but he eventually gets his first glorious hit.

“Mike! Please, open the door. You’re not alright. Don’t be stubborn.”

He closes his eyes against the grey light streaming in through the big windows - it looks like it might rain this afternoon - and inhales again. The drug rushes to his head making things go dark and fuzzy and Harvey’s voice starts to sound like static. When the first joint burns all the way down Mike pulls out another and has just enough energy to light it. Two at once is a bad idea, but he can’t care. A sensory replay of the rape is still going full force in the back of his mind. Trevor is screaming next to him and he can’t do anything but beg.

“Mike! Open the door. Now!”

He would laugh if he had control of his vocal chords. Trying to give absolutely fruitless orders is typical Harvey.

The second joint is burning down to a stub and Mike is so far out of it that he can’t see anything but dark shadows, even with his eyes open. His muscles are liquid and his headache from earlier is barely an afterthought.

He’s not sure if it’s a hallucination or not when Harvey’s face appears in the middle of his floating vision, but either way what comes next feels so good he can’t bother to care. There’s something solid and warm under his head and a soothing touch running through the sweaty hair stuck to his face and neck. He finally closes his eyes and lets the drug put him to sleep.

 

 

Mike comes off his high slowly. One small piece of awareness at a time. So, he realizes he's on the couch with his head on Harvey's lap before he has the energy to even open his eyes. From past experience he knows he won’t be able to move away or even speak for another half hour or more.

Harvey is absentmindedly running his fingers through Mike's hair. Occasionally the fingers slip down over his forehead, or wrap around to touch his cheek. Mike finally cracks his eyes open and tries to move but his muscles are like lead. As much as Subspace feels good going down, if you take too much, it’s a mother fucker to come out of.

Harvey reaches for something and comes back with a shallow glass of water. He helps Mike sit up just enough to drink.

When Mike can finally speak his voice sounds so slurred he’s not sure Harvey understands him. “I don’t need you.”

Harvey says nothing for a long time, or maybe it only seems that way. "I know you don't. But, I needed to be with you right now."

Mike groans weakly. After those words he can't bring himself to hate Harvey, or even want him gone. He closes his eyes again. They're so heavy and the sunset glare is making him feel drowsy. He rolls to his side with his cheek on Harvey's thigh and his nose buried in his robe. He smells so good.

When Mike is fully conscious he'll worry about the fallout from this, but for now he knows instinctively what he wants and he doesn't have to do anything but stay where he is to have it.

Harvey's hand appears to stroke along his cheek and then slips down around the back of his neck to hold him steadily in place.


	6. Chapter 6

When Mike awakes the second time, he’s alone. On the coffee table beside a half drunk glass of water from Harvey’s kitchen, is a folded note and a silver library card.

_Mike,_

_I have to take an emergency trip to London to clean up a messy merger. I’ll be gone the week and should return late Saturday night. If you can, please make use of the City Bar Library to brush up on patent licensing - you may use my card._

There’s a long blank space, and then, crammed in at the end -

_Whether or not you wished to see me today, I apologize for not being close at hand._

_If you feel the need to use again while I'm away, please consider calling me first. Accepting help is not a weakness._

_Harvey_

His personal phone number is written carefully below. Mike runs his finger over it and frowns.

Mike might have been at a point of particular emotional and physical vulnerability the previous afternoon, but that doesn’t mean Harvey is anything more to him than what he was before - a boss and, at best, a friend. One who Mike must remember is in more of a position to manipulate him than he's comfortable with. Not only as an employer with the ability to slide the carpet of opportunity out from under him, but also as the first and only Dom who has ever made Mike ache with desires he has never really experienced before - apart from at the hormonal or theoretical level he'd always thought was norm. But now, with the memory of Harvey’s fingers around his neck, and the echoes of complete comfort that Mike’s minimal contact with Harvey’s body provided, he is beginning to question his resolve.

With the dreamy memory of Harvey’s touch, the rape comes flooding back forcefully, causing Mike to throw his head into his hands and press hard as if he might push it to the back of his consciousness again. Once he buries an old memory under years of new, it doesn’t just surface in full technicolor clarity every time his mind wanders over it. That might have changed now. Well, _for_ now. He knows what to do to push it away but the process is painful, difficult, and long.

Mike tosses the note into the trash bin on his way to find something to eat. After a shower, shave, and change of clothes Mike takes Harvey's library card and heads downtown. He hails a cab, just to be sure. Sub-drop and bicycles don’t mix.

 

 

His days start blurring into each other in much the same way as they would before. Even if his new job is still just an anxiety he has to look forward to on Monday, his life feels remarkably different in so many ways. This apartment, which is meant for high end class, is instead filled with the things of his old tattered life. His time and energy will soon be consumed with law documents and real cases that had only ever been theory before. Even if he is confident in his ability to take on the job Harvey has given him, the pressure is intense. The pressure to please Harvey is becoming more and more _the point_ with every day. That's why Mike groans when he looks down at his phone and sees Jenny's name. Shit. He hasn't called her or Trevor in over a week.

He answers it is as if nothing has changed since the last time he saw her. She's sniffing back tears. "Mike, you moved?"

He winces. "You're at my apartment?"

"The landlord told me you'd gone. I thought you'd run into some trouble."

"No, I'm fine, I just forgot to tell you."

The line is quiet.

"How could you forget that? We would have helped you."

"I had moving men. There were only two days between when I decided and when I was moved in here."

He can hear her trying to hail a cab. "What the fuck is going on? Where are you?" Whatever she'd been crying about before is forgotten and her voice is almost normal. Bossy.

He gives her his address and she laughs. "You've gotta be kidding me."

"I'll explain when you get here. It's not as scandalous as you're thinking."

He keeps his own front door open to listen for the knock at Harvey's. When he lets her in she looks so amused he can't help but smile, which is a good change from the last few rather depressing days.

“So then, this _isn’t_ a Julia Roberts thing?” She peers down the hall at Harvey’s living room.

“Ha ha.” He puts a hand at her back and steers her into his studio. She slumps onto his couch with a sigh. That's when he notices the large overnight bag.

"You’re planning to stay?"

She looks from it to him, and nods slowly. "I didn't know where else to go." She folds her legs up under her and raises a hand to cover a new onslaught of tears. Mike has never seen her so broken up. She's usually the cool and collected one. She's the only real Dom in their group, and the one who can always handle her emotions without faking it.

"Trevor told me everything."

Mike's insides freeze. "About the drugs?"

She shakes her head no and her expression is of such pity Mike sits back to get away from it.

"I want to punch you both in the face, but now I can't. It just figures."

"He really came clean then."

"I'd say better late than never, but... I just couldn't stay. My entire life has been a lie." She wipes at her tears and shrugs. "I don't even know what to call myself now. I thought I was happy being gay when I was with Trevor. Now, I don't know."

"It doesn't have to be that complicated. Orientation doesn't dictate who you can be happy with."

She leans over and bumps him in the shoulder. "You believe that do you? Who have you found to make you happy?"

The answer flutters around in his mind but he refuses to acknowledge it. "Nobody. Maybe someday. But, I'm a different story. Trevor has always loved you."

"Does he? But not enough to be truthful?"

"You wouldn’t have been with him if he had. You wanted a Dom, and he likes pretending. He's good at it."

She nods. "Yeah. He fooled me well. How stupid. All the signs were there."

Mike leans over and hugs her tight, letting her silently cry out her frustration.

"I can stay here?" She asks finally. "Just for a couple nights?"

He nods and then brings them each a beer. They turn on an old 90s sitcom,

"I'm sorry. About what happened to you," she whispers a long while later as they’re curled up under a blanket on the couch. "I wish you’d told me, but I understand."

She stretches and lays on his shoulder as if nothing at all has changed. And for now, Mike's okay with that.

 

 

“Have you started working with those lawyers yet, Michael?”

Mike is fiddling with the controls on his Gram’s television the next morning at the nursing home. She’ll only be here for another few weeks, but in the meantime they upgraded everyone to DVR but forgot to hire professionals to actually install the boxes.

“In a few days, Gram.”

She hums and he can hear her flipping through a magazine on her rolling bed tray.

“I moved into a new apartment. I forgot to tell you, but you should probably have the address.”

She puts on her glasses and peers down at the blue post-it he hands her.

“My new boss offered me a room.”

She nods and pats him on the hand. “I’ll put that in my address book. And this boss of yours, he’s a good man?”

Mike shrugs and plops down next to her on the bed. “Yeah. Yeah, I think he is.”

“Better than that Trevor?”

He laughs and scratches at the back of his neck nervously. “Trevor’s not bad, so much as... troubled. Harvey though, he’s something else. Something new.” He’s smiling like a fool and his Gram isn’t too stupid to notice.

“Well, that’s really excellent, Mike. Good friends are hard to find.”

 

 

After coming home from seeing Gram, Mike finds his door open and Jenny missing.

"Your boss is seriously loaded, isn't he?" She's standing in Harvey's living room with a glass of wine, poking through his cabinets and shelves of records.

"Jenny, don't! He'll notice." He takes a strange and slightly phallic looking crystal sculpture away from her, wipes the fingerprints off with his shirt, and puts it back. By the time he's done she's already putting one of the records on the machine and flicking at switches on the stereo.

"Jenny! For fuck's sake! I don't even know if I'm supposed to be in here while he’s gone."

She smiles and collapses luxuriously on the leather couch. "Don't be a spoil-sport. Breaking and entering is fun. Besides, you live in his house."

"Well, technically."

"He's a Dom?" She asks. "Isn't that kinda kinky?"

"What? Why?"

She grins. "Is he hot?"

Mike shrugs awkwardly and then looks around for somewhere to sit away from Jenny. She's making him nervous. He realizes there's only the leather chair directly next to her, but he chooses it anyway. Before he's even seated she has her bare feet sliding much too seductively into his lap.

"They sometimes call me a hot Dom, you know." She's smiling broadly and looking at him from under her eyelashes. Mike's heart is beating with adrenaline that screams at him to just get the fuck away.

"I'm gonna go order pizza." He stands up and her feet fall unceremoniously to the floor.

After they've eaten, Jenny takes a long shower and Mike finishes fussing over the things she disturbed in Harvey's living room. They share a carton of Ben and Jerry’s and then both call it a night. Jenny once again refuses Mike's bed, so he falls asleep listening to the sounds of Jenny tossing and turning on the couch, sniffling tears into her pillow.

 

 

Deep in the night when the lights of the city have dimmed and it's as dark as it can be, the mattress shifts and Mike wakes to find Jenny kneeling beside him in nothing but her black lace bra and underwear, looking dark and disheveled and dangerous.

He sits up a little, but before he can leave, she's already straddling his hips.

"Jenny," he says as calmly as possible. "What are you doing?"

She leans down and whispers in his ear. "I could be so good for you, if you let me." She noses down his neck, leaving warm kisses as she goes. His heart is beating and his breath is coming fast. "I can take you so far down, I've done it before." She tries to kiss his lips but he moves away slightly. "I want to, Mike."

He shakes his head and pushes against her belly. She doesn't even budge for a few long seconds, but finally she moves away and collapses to his side.

"God, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay. Just... don't."

"I'm so confused," she whispers. "I thought I was in love with a Dom, but I wasn't. I just thought, maybe -"

"You could test a theory?"

She nods in the dark.

"Fine, but you can't use me. There are bars for that."

"I haven't picked up a Sub in years."

"It's not that hard. I did it last week."

She looks over at him with her mouth hanging open in surprise.

"It's a really long story. It didn't end well."

She laughs and they lay together quietly until Mike starts to drift off again. "Can I stay with you?”

He knows she means the bed. "I dunno. Can you behave?"

"I promise."

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her on the forehead. After a while she falls asleep and he can feel her breath against his neck. It should be nice, but somehow it only makes him feel desperately sad.

 

 

In the morning he wakes and Jenny is gone. He checks his messages and finds a text saying she'd gone to find Trevor. He smiles. Trevor really does deserve a second chance if he was brave enough to come clean. Mike toasts a bagel and then goes out into Harvey's kitchen to make coffee. His machine is still broken.

He's really not sure what it is about standing barefoot in Harvey's kitchen at nine-thirty in the morning that makes him cry, but he doesn't like it. Maybe it's the quiet loneliness of the thing that really never bothered him before. Or maybe it's the remembrance of Jenny above him and all the reasons he did and did not want to let her touch him. But what he absolutely positively will not accept is that he misses Harvey. That would be too ridiculous. He barely knows him. And yet, every time Mike feels even the slightest bit unbalanced, lonely, anxious - the whole range of emotions that he'd once dealt with privately and with the help of an occasional joint of subspace - now bring kaleidoscopic images of Harvey to his mind.

He wipes violently at his eyes and bucks up his posture. He fixes his coffee with Harvey's refrigerated creamer and pads back into his room with his head held high, determined to act the Dom and not let his emotions overwhelm him.

A couple of hours later he gives up, pulls out his phone, and dials Harvey's number from memory.

Mike folds his jean clad legs up underneath him as he waits through the ominous ringing. The late afternoon light is starting to disappear into darkness and Mike is getting jittery and depressive enough that he's just about to hang up, forget about Harvey and his fucking Dom voice, and just grab a joint of subspace from one of his stashes, when -

"Mike?" Harvey sounds groggy. Of course. London is five hours ahead. It would be the middle of the night. Harvey is rustling around on the other end as if getting out of bed.

"Fuck it. Go back to sleep, Harvey, I -"

"Don't talk. Just listen."

"No, Harvey. It was really stupid of -"

"I told you to shut up. Do as I say."

Mike clams up and clutches the phone to his ear. His heart rate is already speeding up in the way it does when Harvey uses the Dom voice on him, and whether he likes it or not his cock is getting hard and pressing against his jean zipper uncomfortably. Even if there's no one here to see him, he still can't touch himself. Not while on the phone with Harvey, he won't. It would be too much like...

"Yes or no answers only. Have you used since I left."

"No."

"Were you planning to now?"

Mike rubs nervously at his leg. "I wouldn't be calling if I weren't"

"Yes or no answers, Mike." Harvey sounds weary. Or maybe he's being gentle. It's hard to tell.

"Yes."

"Good. Now, I need you to give me permission to continue, can I have it? Yes or no answer only."

Mike bites at the end of his thumb nervously. He can't just answer yes like there's nothing more to it. "Harvey, I need to ask a question first."

Harvey chuckles weakly. "You really can't take instructions, can you?"

"If you expect me to act like a perfect well behaved Sub for you, you'll be disappointed."

"I don't think I would." Mike swallows a flutter of anticipation. "What's your question?"

"I need to know that you won't hold this against me. In two days I start a job that I've been dreaming about for my whole life, and I can't begin it with a boss who thinks he can dominate me just because I gave him permission this one time." Mike then remembers the Subspace overdose and Harvey's hand around his neck, his head on his thigh. God, he wishes he was sober enough to have appreciated that. Then again, if he'd been sober he would never have allowed it. "Actually, I think we've already stepped over too many boundaries for a professional relationship,” Mike concludes wearily.

"My personal and private lives are separate, Mike. I can be your Dom and your boss without the two overlapping."

Mike stands up in indignant frustration. "You're not my Dom, Harvey! I never said I wanted you like that." He's breathing too hard and needs to take several deep breaths to get himself under control.

"This isn't the first time you've made your feelings known to me. But I think you're wrong."

"Yeah, you would. You think just because you know how to dominate a Sub’s body, that you can do the same to their mind, but you can't."

"I really wish I could gag you sometimes, you have no idea."

Mike gets a mental image of himself gagged and panting below Harvey and it shuts him up fast.

"Mike, you've never been in the scene before. I'm not saying that I know more about what it's like to be a Sub, or how much control you have over your mind. What I'm trying to tell you is that it doesn't have to be about ownership. Besides, I’d like to meet the Dom who could own _you_ without your permission." Harvey's voice is gentle and soothing and Mike has to slide down the wall to sit on the floor while he listens. "It is possible for two people to take what they need from each other, for pleasure and health, without it meaning anything more. That's how this normally works."

"Maybe I want something more than the average pleasure seeking Sub."

Harvey laughs. "Believe me, Mike, I already know you do."

They don't say anything for a long moment while Mike processes this. Technically Harvey's right, Mike can take what he needs to satisfy his body without necessarily sacrificing his values. Maybe. Mike isn't too sure about any of it.

What if one too many pleasant experiences on his knees makes Mike change somehow? What if he loses his drive, his motivation? What if knowing what it's like to submit makes it harder to be a Dom in the workplace? What if what Harvey is offering makes Mike lose everything he's been working for before the reward even begins? Is it even worth it? Somehow it just doesn’t seem so.

"No." He says. His voice is sad but final. "I'm sorry."

Mike's shakes have gotten worse and he's already moving across the room to rummage through his boxes for subspace.

"What can I do to make you stay sober tonight. I don't like knowing you're there alone."

Mike shrugs. "There really isn't anything you can do. Sorry, I gotta go." He hangs up the phone with a tap to the touch screen and lets it drop with a clank to the floor. In under an hour Mike has finished his joint and is laying back on the couch flying high and sated from a good long hand job. But even so, he feels more unsatisfied than he ever has before, and he doesn't want to admit that it was Harvey's voice trying to order him around that played in his head while he touched himself.

 

 

"I thought you said you wouldn’t be home till tonight?"

Harvey looks almost as disheveled as Mike feels. He'd slept off his sub-drop all morning on the couch. They're standing together at Mike's door trying not to meet each other's eye.

"I came home early."

"Not because of me?"

"No. I mean, not only."

Mike looks up at him with narrowed eyes. "Is chronic concern your new thing now? I told you not to worry about me. I'm a big boy."

Harvey nods. "Did you do the research?"

Mike comes out into Harvey's living room and they sit casually together talking about his findings and it's application to Harvey's case. Something to do with a merger, an international patent dispute, and an ass-hole British CEO. A case that will probably be Mike's case too in a few days. Harvey looks tired, worn, and hard around the mouth.

"You should call that Sub, Ethan."

"What? I can't have you so you're playing matchmaker?"

Mike shrugs. "He likes you."

"Every Sub likes me."

"How modest. You two are perfect for each other." Mike cringes inside at the thought that it might be true, but he reigns it in.

Harvey laughs and stretches as he stands. "I think you're right. I need to scene."

Mike tries to look indifferent as Harvey disappears into the kitchen, trying hopelessly to smooth his trans-Atlantic rumpled clothes as he walks. "I think I still have the cereal box he wrote on."

"You plebeian. Forced to keep scraps around just to remember simple seven digit numbers."

Harvey turns to face Mike in the kitchen doorway. "Well then, if nothing else I guess it's a good thing I keep you around."

"To remember your Sub's phone numbers?"

"Something like that."

"Hey, I thought you didn't do relationships? Just mutually satisfactory episodes of health and pleasure."

Harvey doesn't smile, he just stares at Mike's mouth like he wants to devour it. "No, I don't do relationships _lightly_." His gaze is so intense it makes Mike blush hot. "Besides, Ethan is certainly not a relationship. He's," Harvey pauses to think, "a recurring one-night-stand."

Mike chuckles as he stands and walks past to his room, just a little happier than he was the whole week Harvey was gone. However, when he hears Ethan arrive an hour later, he blasts his TV loud enough to drown out the sounds and maybe even the jealous thoughts swarming around in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

On Sunday they deliver Mike's suits in assorted garment bags that look, smell, and sound expensive when he unzips them to gawk at the pristine luxury fabrics beneath. On Monday morning he can barely sleep so he wakes up early to shower and dress, choke down a piece of toast, and fuss at his appearance in the mirror. It's not too bad. In fact, it's remarkably not bad at all. He looks good. Because of the suit his posture improves without him even trying, as does his shoulder span. He combs his hair and uses a tiny bit of the Dom cologne Harvey bought him. But when he gets to the tie, he's stumped. He probably should have had the tailor's assistants show him how to do this. Now he's stuck asking Harvey like a fucking teenager going to prom.

Harvey is sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper when Mike wanders in. Unsurprisingly Harvey already looks perfectly put together. When he looks up and sees Mike, he startles.

"Wow." He lets his eyes sweep up and down Mike's body. "Bravo, René."

"I don't know how to tie this thing." If Mike is feeling vulnerable this morning it's hardly surprising. He's terrified and doesn't have a clue what to do about it.

Harvey drops his paper and comes to stand way too close. So close that their chests nearly touch. Mike watches Harvey's concentrated expression as he pulls the silk tie through his collar and begins tying it expertly. The ghost of sensation as he adjusts Mike's lapels make him tremble despite himself. Harvey runs his hand down the length of the tie to smooth it, but when the stroke lingers too long at the base, where the shirt tucks into his belt, Mike tries to take a step back - but Harvey is quicker, and stronger. He puts one hand around Mike's arm to keep him close and then uses the other to tip up his chin.

Mike knows he's panting but there's nowhere to go, he's trapped.

"Work hard, harder than you've ever worked in your life. Listen to what your superiors tell you, but what I say takes first priority. Remember what I taught you and what you've read, it'll give you a good head start on the projects you're given. Keep on your Dom face, you're much better at it then I've let on, and don't screw up."

Mike nods and tries again to slip out of Harvey's hot grasp, but he grips his chin tight.

"Don't screw up. But, if you do, I'll protect you. Always. Understood?"

Mike nods slowly, his gaze glued as if against his will to Harvey’s. But even when Harvey lets go of his chin he doesn’t move away, he’s too entranced by the heated look in the other man's eyes. Harvey brings his hand up and Mike lets him tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, but it won’t stay. On its way down, Harvey's finger gently brushes over Mike’s bottom lip, and the sudden desire to kiss him is so overwhelming that Mike's eyes drift shut and he sways dizzily. Harvey smiles and holds him up straight.

“Are you ready? You’ll have to take a cab, we can’t arrive together.”

When Mike opens his eyes the space between them is greater but the grip Harvey has on his arm remains.

“I have my bike.” 

"Ha, that's cute. You’ll take a cab.” Harvey lets him go and disappears out of the kitchen. He’s already grabbed his briefcase and keys and the front door is slamming behind him when Mike follows dreamily down the hall.

 

  
A pretty Sub with long brown hair and a bored expression greets Mike at the Pearson Hardman reception desk.

"I'm Rachel, a paralegal here, and apparently the new tour guide because I've been granted the task of showing you around and bringing you to your cubicle." Mike smiles as charmingly as he can. She rolls her eyes.

"Seriously, don't try any of that with me. I'm the only Sub on his floor, so do you really think you're the first Dom to come on to me? No."

Mike follows, trying to keep up with her dizzying pace and dry colorless tour - "That's Jessica's office," he looks over before they hurry past. "She's the managing partner, very busy, very important. I doubt you'll ever really work with her."

Mike tries to gain his footing, but the seductive clinking of her heels on the hardwood and flawless swagger make him look like a stumbling idiot. "I wasn't trying to pick you up."

She swings her hair over one shoulder. "Fine. Either way I'm a serious employee, the best researcher in the firm, and I want to be treated as such." She gives him a long steady gaze until he nods.

"Yeah, of course," he assures her.

Mike spends the rest of the day settling into his cubicle, a low-walled disgrace that forces him to meet the curious gazes of every other person in the too small associate's office. 

He'd hoped that he'd at least have _something_ to hide behind. Somewhere private that might give him the occasional opportunity to let his guard down. But then again, maybe this is for the best.

The associate beside him, Harold, is reasonably friendly, casually motivated, but definitely lacking the professional presence necessary to be a really successful lawyer. When Louis Litt finally makes his way over to greet, or rather, intimidate Mike he’s glad Harvey gave him a heads up the night before. This guy really is as cocky, off putting, and overbearing as he anticipated, but what he hadn’t planned for was the creepiness of his lingering gaze.

"Is that guy for real?" He asks Harold once Louis has cleared the corner.

"Oh, yeah," he chuckles with his head bowed over a stack of paperwork that Mike doesn't think a normal person could reasonably tackle in one day. Of course, _he_ could do it, but his speed reading skills far surpass the average Joe. "Just agree with everything he says and you should be fine."

At one point a few associates trickle out for lunch but Mike stays, determined to finish not only the papers from HR Rachel gave him, but also the briefs Louis slapped onto his desk to be read and summarized by the following afternoon. By three he's completely forgotten about Harvey who is probably somewhere doing something incredibly important, and by four he's so deep in the rhythm of hard satisfying work that he's even stopped worrying about his Dom face. At five he hands the summaries to Louis - who couldn't seem less impressed, and at six he packs up on time and heads to the elevator.

"Where are you going?"

Mike stops, twirls on his heel, and comes nose to nose with Rachel.

"Home?"

She looks at her watch with a furrowed brow. "Oh."

"We leave at six, right?"

"Supposedly. Want to stay and help me research the McDermott case for Harvey? He said you'd want to."

Mike grins and looks around her to where Harvey's office is. He's leaning back in his chair and reading something on his computer with deep concentration.

"Yeah, sure." She smiles and gestures him to follow.

They share take-out from a place she'd raved about for half an hour after Mike confessed to an alarming disregard for the pleasure of sushi. Later they gather their spare change to buy two sodas and a couple of packs of cheap chocolate bars from the vending machine downstairs to eat while sifting through boxes in the dusty stacks.

At a quarter to eleven Mike stretches and rolls the kinks out of his neck. "I should go. I need to sleep eventually."

"Weakling."

He chuckles. "Hey, that would have taken you two days without me."

She smiles shyly and before Mike knows it he's on the wrong side of a quick, but unmistakably flirtatious glance. One he recognizes from that disastrous night at the club. It's gone quicker than it came and then they're back to where they were before - cordial if not friendly co-workers.

"Well, goodnight."

She nods once as he walks away, then returns to clearing the desk and packing up her handbag.

 

  
Mike doesn't see anything of Harvey that night or on Tuesday except when he wanders through the associate's cubicles and tosses him a stack of depositions to review while on his way out to a business lunch with Jessica. Mike smiles and stands, but before he can get a word in Harvey has a hand up, shooing him off and back to work as he disappears around the corner. Mike tries not to dwell on the dismissal but he still somehow manages to wake himself up twice that night to toss and turn in frustration over what will probably become normal office communication with his new boss - efficient but and minimal contact. Two weeks ago that would have sounded ideal. But now? Now, it’s a different story.

Late Thursday afternoon Mike drops by Harvey's office on his way back from the associate's break room where he'd arranged with Rachel to meet for a taste of her favorite Pad Thai.

Harvey looks up from his work with one eyebrow raised. "Yes? What is it?"

Mike steps fully into the office and lets the heavy glass door swing shut behind him.

"I dunno, I guess I just wanted to thank you again for this. All of it."

Harvey nods. "You're welcome. I've heard good things so far." He plucks a file Mike had finished for him earlier and holds it up. "You're work is good, and quick."

Mike smiles brilliantly. "Thanks."

"So is that it? Did you come in here for a performance review, because it's only been three days."

"No, I... I don't know, I just wanted..."

"To see me?"

"No!"

Harvey looks him over steadily, his mouth pulled into a thin concentrated line. Mike worries his bottom lip with his teeth, whether it's good form or not, it makes him feel better. This evaluative attention Harvey sometimes gives makes him squirm. It's as if he's peeling away not only Mike's clothing but also his formerly iron clad defenses to see what's underneath, and it makes Mike want to just rest at his feet and let Harvey take a look at his leisure. But he's just his boss. Mike breaks his gaze and takes two steps back to escape the warring emotions inside him.

"Okay, then," Harvey concludes. "Figure out what you _do_ want, and in the meantime, get back to work."

"Work? Is that what we're still talking about?"

Harvey takes a sip of his coffee and clicks something idly on his computer. When Mike refuses to leave he swivels in his chair.

"Mike, you really need to pull yourself together. This is our office and whatever else you or I are feeling, these four walls are not the place for them. If there's something personal you'd like to talk to me about, please do it at the apartment. But while the clock is ticking, while there are people just outside those windows working their asses off, I require a modicum of professional restraint. So yes, assume I'm always talking about work."

Mike's face is red with embarrassment and his throat is choked up uncomfortably when Harvey stands up from his desk and dismisses him with a reassuring hand on the shoulder.

"Buck up, kid. You can do this. I believe in you."

He nods weakly then wanders back down to his cubicle to finish up his work for the day.

It's late when he finally packs up sometime after nine. Louis gave them all a project that kept the more dedicated associates busy well after the rest of the office had gone. Rachel, like a saint, stayed to help and as Mike suspects, to spend a little more time with him.

They're becoming fast friends, which is nice. She’s fun, intelligent, and sweet when not trying to scare the shit out of you for treating her too much like a Sub. And as much as he wants to have a friend in the office, he can’t afford to deal with an unrequited crush. So on the way to the break room for coffee, he lets slip from his bag a picture of him and Trevor that he’d printed off his phone.

Her eyebrows crease when she picks it up. "A friend?"

Mike forces a blush and shrugs. "We used to date." At least it’s a well meaning lie.

"Oh!" She smiles awkwardly and follows him to the coffee maker where he's pulling two mugs from the shelf. She carefully rips open a packet of artificial sweetener and glances at him sideways. "So, you're gay?"

Mike shrugs. "Yeah, I guess. Want some creamer?"

Rachel nods, flustered. They spend the rest of the evening in awkward silence, but by the end she seems to have accepted the news and moved on. Being gay is hardly the worst rumor Mike could have floating around the office. Besides, he'd rather that be people's conclusion if they ever notice Mike's distraction with Harvey.

Mike spends the last hour of work thinking about what Harvey had said about professional indifference. He distracts himself worrying about how ever since Mike rejected him on the phone, Harvey seems to be taking two steps away from him every day. He wonders what happened to the Dom who seemed to want to kiss him in the kitchen, who couldn't help breaking into his room to nurse him through his overdose. The Dom who flew home early from London, just to see him.

By the time he and Rachel make it to the elevators, Mike is quietly coming apart at the seams.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asks. He nods and pushes the down arrow a couple more times to try and hurry it.

 

When Mike opens Harvey's front door he expects to find the other man's living room as dark and lifeless as the previous two evenings. But now the lights are on and he can hear the low rumble of laughter on some late night talk show. When he approaches he can even see Harvey's long elegant ankles folded up on the coffee table. His chest is tight but determined as he quietly leaves his things at his own unopened door and walks into the living room. Harvey looks over at him, having anticipated his arrival, and smiles. Mike begins to say something until he notices the blonde head asleep in Harvey's lap and the naked body curled up beside him. Ethan.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mike mumbles.

Harvey clicks off the television and lays a hand over Ethan's head. "Don't be. He's sleeping off his subspace and he's certainly not modest." Harvey strokes the Sub along the shoulder and gives him a fond look that makes Mike want to scream, or claw the little fucker's eyes out, or, something.

"Sit down." Mike looks to the offered chair and decides he'd rather stay in the room where he can keep an eye on Harvey and perfect little Ethan. Really, Mike can't remember feeling this bitter when he'd last suggested Harvey call the Sub in for a nightcap. It had seemed generous at the time, but now...

"Don't look so jealous, Mike. Remember, you turned _me_ down. Scotch?" He holds out his own tumbler. Mike numbly takes it and has a sip to calm the nervous energy fizzling under his skin. And if when Harvey has taken the glass back Mike licks his lips, it's not in the hope that he might taste some remnant of Harvey there.

"Are you settling in at the office?"

Mike strums his fingers on the arm of his chair and nods. "Yeah, the work feels good. Really rewarding. And I like that paralegal, Rachel."

Harvey nods. "She's great. One of the hardest working Sub's I've met. I'm not surprised you two hit it off. In fact, she reminds me a lot of you. All the dominant pheromones in the world would be inadequate if she didn't want to get on her knees for you." Mike swallows, trying to decide if this is supposed to be a compliment. "Most of us have tried at one time or another, but after awhile it becomes easier to just leave her be."

Mike swallows around a hard lump in his throat. Is that what was happening? Had Harvey decided to just _leave him be?_ The idea terrifies him. He might have pushed Harvey away one too many times, yes, but was he really hoping that he would finally just give up?

 _Well, what else is he supposed to do?_ A voice within him reasons. He can't expect Harvey to know that one more firm push would probably be enough. He'd tried, he'd failed, he'd moved on. Mike glares at Ethan.

"You should get some sleep. I want to take you with me tomorrow so you can watch me recruit a witness for the McDermott lawsuit. It'll be good experience for when I send you out alone in the future."

Mike nods numbly, his eyes still glued to Harvey's hand on Ethan's cheek.

"I'm taking a shower." He taps Ethan gently on the shoulder. "I'll leave him here to sleep. Don't disturb him."

"Yeah, sure."

Harvey slips out from under the Sub and stretches on his way to the back bathroom. As he passes Mike he pats him on the shoulder.

"Don't sweat it, kid. You'll get used to it."

Mike has no idea which of the myriad of things Harvey expects him to get used to, but if it's supposed to be watching him pet other Subs, then he's going to be very disappointed.

Mike throws his head against the back of the chair and covers his eyes with his arm. As soon as he hears the shower running at the other side of the apartment he lets a few incredibly pathetic tears fall. It's just exhaustion, he thinks. A little bit of frustration with the change in Harvey's affection maybe, but at the root of it must be pure exhaustion. He wipes aggressively at his eyes and takes long deep breaths through his nose. Harvey shouldn't be affecting him this much. He's just his boss and it's not his job to give Mike anything more than what he's getting now. And isn't that what Mike asked of him? Professionalism and distance? He can remember saying it but he can't really remember the last time he truly wanted it.

"You know, he's head over heels for you."

Mike looks up, startled. Ethan is sitting on the couch cross legged. He never even heard him move. His eyes are bright and alert with none of the groggy subspace residue he'd expect. God, he was faking it the whole time.

"He's a good Dom. A great Dom, even. Why else do you think I keep coming back?" He smirks and stretches luxuriously. "But after awhile it becomes obvious when a Dom is pretending I'm someone else."

"Someone else?"

Ethan raises his eyebrows. "Yeah. You." He punctuates each word dramatically.

Mike tries to look big and put together and confident, but Ethan is having none of it. He rolls his eyes dramatically. "Cut the act. You fooled me the first time, but I'm observant enough to know a fellow Sub when I see one, even if he does have short ugly hair."

Mike runs a hand over his head. "It's not ugly!"

"Yeah, he doesn't think so either. If he thought he could get away with having mine cut, he would. As if. I'd rather die."

Ethan sits calmly observing him as Mike slowly unravels at the seams. It's not a shocker that Harvey wants him. He'd known that since day one, since the interview. But something inside Mike has shifted now and the attention that had once unnerved and overwhelmed him suddenly seems so good and right and... necessary. Despite the irritation Mike can’t seem to shake, just watching Ethan sitting there, comfortable in his nudity, calm, serene, and stressless, is enviable. _Could Harvey make him feel like that?_

Watching contented Subs baffles him. What is it that makes them feel so good in their own skin? Is it their Dom, or something inside them that Mike’s missing? Is there a genetic code he never inherited, or was it something he lost that afternoon when he was thirteen? 

But, the big question, the one that keeps popping up in Mike's mind no matter how hard he tries to crush it, is whether Harvey is the Dom meant to help him find that missing piece of himself. Is Harvey worth risking everything for? He'd already given Mike so much, is it selfish of him to want more? And if he does want it, if he does submit, will Harvey still want him? As of today it finally feels as though Harvey is retracting his offer and Mike worries that he might be too late. That he might have pushed Harvey away one too many times.

"How long since you've been with a Dom?" Ethan's voice is low and sweet and Mike finds it easy to answer.

"Never."

He nods, unsurprised. "Well you couldn't do better than Harvey. You're very lucky to have him."

“I don’t _have him_ ,” Mike defends. "Besides - I don't know anything about being a Sub."

"Of course you do. There's nothing to know that isn't already in here." He taps on his head with his index finger. When the shower water stops he rolls off the couch and searches around for the jeans and t-shirt that had been abandoned somewhere near the liquor cabinet. Mike watches his graceful easy movements and can't help the jealousy that resurfaces in his belly.

Mike can hear the muted sounds of Harvey opening and closing drawers through the bedroom door. Ethan crouches down in front of his chair and lays a gentle hand on his knee. "Don't over think it, Mike. All you have to do is submit, and then it's his job to do the rest." He winks, smiles, and disappears out the front door.

"Where's he going?" Harvey is standing to Mike's left, toweling his hair and looking confusedly at the entry way. "He shouldn't be on his own so soon after subspace."

"He wasn't in subspace."

"What?"

"It would seem he's a good actor."

Harvey comes around to stand in front of Mike's chair.

"What happened?" He looks pissed and hotly defensive of his Sub - a Sub that isn't Mike.

"Nothing."

"No, not nothing. Something happened and I need to know. Now, tell me."

Mike shakes his head and stands, just barely missing brushing up against the other man. "Not tonight, Harvey. I'm so tired."

He needs time to think, or maybe just to sleep off the warring emotions in his head. Tomorrow he'll decide what to do. Tomorrow he'll make his move... whatever it is. He disappears into his room and collapses on the bed. The idea of plucking a joint of Subspace from the staple box is so appealing he almost gets up again. But, no. Harvey would probably smell it and come knocking. And right now he needs to be alone, just for a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is confused about the definition of homosexuality in this universe, let me clarify. In the AU, when a Dom or a Sub prefers being in a sexual or romantic relationship with another of his or her own orientation, they are considered "gay". Gender has nothing to do with it. For example, Jenny, who is a Dom, believed she was in a homosexual relationship with Trevor, who was pretending to also be a Dom.


	8. Chapter 8

Harvey tries to intercept Mike on his way out to work the next morning by shamelessly hovering around the front hall entrance with his coffee, thinking that, surely he’s sly and charming enough to force the kid to talk to him.

However, what Harvey doesn’t account for is the possibility that Mike too is biding his time, waiting until Harvey inevitably goes to the bathroom to take one final critical eye to his hair. So when Harvey returns to find the front door closing, he decides that chasing after Mike like a lovesick teenager in the middle of a breakup is just not on.

Donna whistles low when Harvey finally comes in, sullen, tired, and worst of all - late.

“Bedroom problems? Really Harvey? I would never have thought it of you.”

“Oh, shut up Donna. Is my eight o’clock still here?”

“They’re in the lobby. I stalled them with ten dollar cups of Colombian coffee and those little scone things they make on the eighteenth floor.”

“Fantastic.”

She hovers at the corner of his desk with one finger flicking idly at his cup of pens. “So, do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Right. It’s just that I know this really amazing little club near that new Korean fusion restaurant. I see this one Sub there all the time. Thin as a rail, blonde, adorable little nose -”

“I don’t want another fucking Sub Donna! Fuck. Can you just - go get my eight o’clock.”

Donna nods and nearly tips over her chair trying to stand. “Yeah. Yes, of course.”

Harvey sits staring at a wall and trying not to look as upset as he feels. This really is going to have to stop. As much as he liked the idea of having Mike right under his thumb, the reality of waking up in the middle of the night distracted by the space between them that is simultaneously too close and too far away is beginning to disrupt his work, his health, his... mental stability. He hasn’t been late in over a year. Not since he got pneumonia from those pro-bono brats.

He smiles and stands while buttoning his jacket when he sees Donna, whose expression is just a little deflated, ushering his clients to the door.

A little later, sometime around lunch, which he only knows because of the annoying rumbles he keeps ignoring, he finally spots Mike appear out of the associate’s cave. He’s smiling and chatting with that paralegal Sub. She’s carrying a bag of take-out and leading them towards her office at the other end of the floor. Harvey stands up and hurries outside, not caring too much if he looks like a fool for doing it.

When Mike catches sight of him he doesn’t even stop walking, he just frowns, tightens up his tie, and disappears behind a wall.

Harvey, who is suddenly confused about what he’s doing, what he was doing, and what he’s supposed to be doing, looks over at Donna. Because, usually she has all the answers. She too is frowning in the direction Mike went.

“Listen, Donna. I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier. It was out of line, and it won’t happen again.”

She nods. “It’s fine, Harvey. I get it.”

He nods and goes back in with a determination to at least pretend to be working. But then, after sitting in his office chair thinking for far too long about all the things that he’d hoped would turn out differently, he beeps through to Donna on the intercom.

“Donna. I want to write up something to renegotiate my room lease with Mike. I don’t know, maybe you can find him a studio in another building and I’ll just pay the difference until the contract is up.”

The line is silent for a long time.

“Harvey, are you sure? That would be a big expense.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care. I just need... I just need you to do that for me, okay?”

She looks over her shoulder at him through the glass and nods before putting the headset down.

A half-hour later Harvey doesn’t notice Donna following Mike and Rachel into the associate’s break room.

 

 

“Rachel, nice to see you.”

Rachel looks over as Harvey’s assistant comes waltzing into the break room like she owns the place. Rachel blushes and takes two steps back. “Hey, Donna. It’s - yeah, it’s nice to see you too.”

They smile at each other just long enough for Mike to get uncomfortable before Donna finally clears her throat and touches Rachel softly on the elbow.

“Be a dear and leave Mike and me alone for a couple of minutes.”

Rachel nods and walks gingerly around Donna as if there were a force field there, and then disappears out the door. Funny, Rachel usually kicks Dom’s in the balls or wherever else it’ll hurt when they try that shit on her.

“You look,” she runs her eyes up and down his body, “like shit.”

“Well that was rude. But, yeah, I guess I haven’t been feeling great. Why?”

“Just an observation. Look, Mike, I’ve already gotten in trouble once today for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I’m a reckless woman and I’m not afraid to do it again.” She pours herself and cup of coffee and takes a sip of it black. She checks to make sure no one is coming before stepping in closer and whispering, “if it’s your intention to keep stringing Harvey along, I’ll do what he just asked me and move you someplace where you can’t do it in such great proximity.”

Mike knits together his eyebrows and frowns. “Move me? Where?”

“If, however, you’re planning to do something about this annoying little mating dance you two have going, I suggest you do it now.”

Mike stutters something inaudible before blurting. “You know what, you’re right. You are putting your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong. If Harvey wants to fire me just because I won’t sleep with him, then fine. I don’t care.”

Donna rolls her eyes and grabs Mike’s wrist when he tries to walk away. “He’s not firing you. He’s - He just thinks he wants - you know what, never mind. But, let me say this - You’re a nice kid. Nicer than Harvey knows what to do with, but that’s a good thing. He needs something good in his life that isn’t going to skip off in the morning. And even though you probably think I’ll threaten to kill you if you break his heart - which I would - I can also promise that I’ll be sure to make his life a living hell if he does anything stupid to screw up your trust.”

She takes two steps back and picks up her coffee with a smile.

“A lot of work today?” She asks as if nothing had happened.

“Yeah. I guess so.” Mike is blinking stupidly at her.

“Well, okay. Good luck. We’ve all heard good things, even among the secretaries.”

 

 

Harvey stays until the office is quiet. He spent more than half his day pining over Mike, and now he has to make up for it if he has any hope of avoiding working Saturday. It must be after ten when he looks up from his pages and pages of reading to watch the cleaning lady dump out her last trash bin and disappear down the hall toward the service elevator. He’s so sure that he’s all alone with his thoughts that he nearly jumps when the door to his office opens and Mike slips in - pale and trembling.

“Shit, Mike. You scared me. I thought everyone had gone.”

“Sorry,” he says. He looks just as dashing as always. Like a true corporate climber in the fine suits Harvey will always make sure he’s seen in - even if he’s not living in his apartment any more. Harvey shakes the thought off and smiles sadly at Mike, not sure if this is the worst or perfect time to break the news.

Mike clears his throat, nervously unbuttons his suit jacket, and shoves his hands down into his pockets.

“Louis must have kept you in for a late nighter, then? I didn’t know.” Harvey stretches and loosens his tie. “Did you need something?”

Mike blinks, looks around, and winces at some thought running through his head. He steps forward once, as if testing the idea, and then with a lift to the chin he moves confidently around the desk until he’s standing right before him. He holds his eye contact as he always fights to do until suddenly he drops his gaze and hits his knees solidly and without grace.

Harvey holds his breath.

Everything he’s fantasized about, every wish to have Mike weak and needy and submissive at his feet has materialized. And suddenly he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to do about it.

In the absence of Harvey’s reaction, Mike's trembles have escalated into full body shakes. Harvey reaches out and gently leads his head to his knee.

Mike breathes shallowly and presses his face into the flesh of Harvey’s thigh as if to hide whatever emotion he fears might show there. Harvey puts both hands on his head, cradling him in place, and gently runs a thumb over his damp brow.

"Take deep breaths for me. That's it." The shuddery painful breaths seem more like a panic attack than anything else, so Harvey slips his fingers into Mike's hair and strokes. Most Subs melt under his hands when he does this, but not Mike. Some fight or flight reflex clicks into place and Mike is shaking his head, trying to slip away. His hands are wringing furiously in his lap and his nails press painfully into his palms.

Instead of letting him go, Harvey slips from his chair and hits the floor, not caring if he too is on his knees. Mike needs something and he plans to find out while he still can. He grabs Mikes wrists in his own and firmly pulls them behind, his own arms now wrapped around Mike’s body.

“Stop fighting. Let it go.”

Mike shakes his head, but doesn’t resist when Harvey quickly slips out of his tie and wraps it in a figure eight around Mike’s wrists. Not so tight that he couldn’t get free, but just enough to ensure he can relax into the bonds. But, he doesn’t. He gasps for breath and pulls weakly at the knot.

Harvey grasps the nape of Mike’s hair and pulls back until he gasps.

“I told you to stop fighting.” His voice is low and firm. “Say you’ll stop. Say it.”

Mike’s eyes are closed tight, as are his lips. Harvey tightens his grip.

The pain makes Mike sigh and his eyes fly open.

“Say it.”

Mike nods. “Yes.”

Without removing his hand, Harvey slowly releases the pressure until he begins to see the blind panic dissolve from the kid’s face. His muscles relax and something clicks into place in his mind that now he’s put himself here, there’s no way he’s getting away again. He relaxes and slumps forward. Harvey leads his head to his shoulder while Mike gratefully hums.

“Is this why you came?”

Mike nods. “You said I should come back once I decided what I wanted.”

Harvey smiles from ear to ear and pets Mike affectionately.

“And you want this?”

“I want you.”

 

 

Mike drifts in and out of something akin to subspace but nowhere near as intense while Harvey finishes his work. Harvey had slipped back into his chair, but left Mike to kneel at with his head nestled into his thigh and one hand firmly wrapped around his neck in a way that reminds him of that night when he’d almost overdosed on Subspace.

Mike feels wonderful. Eventually he suspects that he’ll come out of this high and experience some sort of embarrassment, but the emotion hasn’t reached him yet. He’s too content to rest and soak in the smell of Harvey so close beside him, and touching Mike as if he loves it.

“I’m so tired,” he says.

Harvey strokes his hair and Mike can hear him pressing the power button on his computer.

“I know. Let’s go home.”

Harvey lifts him up and gently unties his arms.

“Are you going to hold this against me tomorrow?”

“No. Of course I wont.” Mike exhales and his hot breath against Harvey’s lips does something to make the other man’s eyes drift shut and his breath quicken.

That’s when Mike realizes Harvey is going to kiss him for the first time. And standing here in the middle of Harvey’s office, exposed and more vulnerable than he’s ever felt, he really can’t think of any reason why he should stop him. If there were a professional barrier then it’s already been crossed. And besides, what was it that he really wanted if not know the full focus of Harvey’s attention, of his dominance and power.

Harvey leans down and their lips just barely touch, but when Mike doesn’t pull away Harvey presses in firmly, pulling his hair back again to get a better angle. His kisses are confident and unapologetic and Mike moans when Harvey probes at his lips for entrance.

The first time Mike has a Dom’s tongue in his mouth is so heady and pleasurable that Harvey has to support Mike’s weight against his body when Mike breaks away to breathe.

“The taste of you,” Harvey whispers. “You are so much sweeter than I ever imagined. Tell me you want it.”

Mike nods. “I do.”

“Good boy.” He captures Mike’s mouth again to suck at his bottom lip and tongue. He angles Mike’s head with his hands and devours him until Mike is drunk on it.

Harvey breaks away and leans his forehead against Mike.

“I wish I could stay here and kiss you raw.”

Mike moans. “Then do it.”

He shakes his head and takes Mike’s hand. “No. I want to take you home.”

Mike follows him obediently and is surprised to find that Harvey doesn’t even let go of him in the elevator or all the way down and through the lobby.

“What if we’re seen.”

Harvey shrugs. “What if the earth opens up below us. I don’t care, I’m not in the mind to let go of you.”

The words make Mike smile so he doesn’t complain when Harvey opens the cab door for him or pulls him into the circle of his arms once they’re seated. He gives the driver the address and holds Mike tight, as if he might disappear.

“Harvey.”

“Yes?” He runs his fingers along Mike’s shoulder.

This is all going a little fast, even if it is a delirious high that Mike doesn’t really want to come down from. But nevertheless, he’s getting nervous. What if Harvey goes too far? What if Mike regrets every single decision he’s made tonight? What if, worst of all, he wakes up tomorrow feeling stripped of everything he’s worked for, everything he thought he believed, and the person he thought he could be.

The words catch in his throat and Mike doesn’t breathe for a long moment.

“I said I’d protect you.” Harvey is looking at him darkly and his hand has now run around to the back of Mike’s neck where he presses gently into the warm flesh. “I meant it.”

Mike exhales and nods.

“Let me take care of you. Will you?”

Mike turns and looks at Harvey in the pale blue shadow of the city night. He’s handsome and strong, powerful and dominant. He’s everything Mike is yearning for and it suddenly seems so easy to forget about the rest. He nods.

 

 

Harvey leads Mike into his bedroom and presses him back against the bed.

“Harvey, I’m not ready for - ”

“Quiet. I know what you need.”

Mike nods, unsure, and lays his head back to stare up at the ceiling.

Piece by piece Harvey strips Mike down to only his boxers and the fine white dress shirt. Harvey smiles as Mike sits up on his elbows to watch him strip out of his own clothes and change into his pajama pants. Mike stares longingly at Harvey’s thick cock, half erect, even if it’s only exposed for a moment. It might be have been disconcerting if this were the first time Mike had seen it, but, fortunately it’s not. Harvey keeps grinning all the way to the bed and as he climbs up to hover over him.

“I’ll be glad when you’re ready to learn to suck cock.”

Mike gasps and lifts his hips up, desperate for - something.

“Maybe I already know.”

Harvey bends to his ear and licks him. “Don’t lie to me. Besides, I like you better like this.”

“Like how?” 

“Needy and... virginal.” He kisses him under the ear and then follows down his neck until he’s nudged aside Mike’s collar to place firmer kisses underneath.

Mike cringes. “I’m not virginal, Harvey. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Harvey bites his ear gently and presses his mouth to Mike’s ear in a kiss.

“What they did to you, it doesn’t count.”

“Harvey, this isn’t a a therapy session, I don’t need you to feed me that shit. I’m a big boy.”

“I want to talk to you about this, but not now. Right now I want to blow your mind and watch you love it.”

Mike laughs. “I knew you’d get cocky if I submitted to you.”

Harvey hums. “If feeling pride at finally winning you is cocky, then, sure.”

“I’m hardly a prize, Harvey.”

He lifts his head up and looks down at him with dark eyes. “Yes, you are.” And before Mike has time to argue Harvey has latched onto his neck and is sucking and biting hard.

They make out until Mike can’t see straight, and then, finally, Harvey reaches down to lay a hand low on Mike’s belly.

“Has a Dom ever touched you here before?” He asks while running one finger teasingly along his erection,

Mike thrusts his hips up to try and create more contact and whines desperately when Harvey removes his hand entirely.

“Answer me.”

“No. Never.”

He grins and captures Mike’s lips again.

“I won’t cuff you tonight, but I want you to keep your hands wrapped around the headboard.”

Mike looks up at the wooden slates of the bed and grips them while Harvey kisses him slowly and runs his fingers up and down his cock.

“Fuck, Harvey! Just do it already.”

Harvey bites into his neck so hard Mike screams.

“Never tell me what to do.” He hovers over him and Mike looks up into the other man’s eyes, grateful to have the contact. “Understood?”

Mike nods.

“Try ordering me around in bed and you’ll get spanked.”

Mike moans deeply at the suggestion and tightens his fingers around the bed frame until his knuckles hurt.

“Respond to me when I speak to you.”

The intent in Harvey’s words are there, but Mike can’t bring himself to give him more than a weak “I understand.” Harvey looks disappointed to have not hear the traditional “sir,” at the end but he doesn’t say anything about it, and seems to have forgotten entirely when he finally wraps his fingers tight around Mike’s cock and pulls him off with steady sure strokes and teasing flicks of his thumb over the cock head. He growls directions and encouragements at Mike, sometimes trying to force the honorific from his lips, sometimes just enjoying how his words make Mike pant with need. Mike bites his lip and focuses on the pleasure more than the tugging in his chest to let go and just submit already to everything Harvey wants from him.

When Mike finally comes with a cry Harvey hums in approval and gently rubs his cum into the skin of his belly while kissing him and occasionally nipping at the blossoming bruises on his collarbone.

 

 

Mike is drifting on the precipice of subspace as Harvey gently coaxes his fingers from the headboard and curls him up under the covers of the bed. His eyes are foggy and erratic as he gazes up at the ceiling. Harvey can still see the thoughts storming about in his mind. Nothing to allow him the mental rest he needs. Given some time he’ll fall asleep from the physical exhaustion and pleasure alone, but Harvey wishes he were at peace in that incredible head of his. He runs his fingers through Mike’s hair and wipes the moisture from the corner of his eyes with his thumb.

“I can go back to my room,” he says weakly.   
Harvey shakes his head. “No, I want you here. I never kick a Sub out of bed. That is, unless they need to be on the floor.”

Mike chuckles and curls into the warm circle of Harvey’s arms once he returns from flicking off all the lights. Harvey strokes the back of his neck as is becoming his habit. He likes the way his short hair feels where it brushes against his skin.

“Do a lot of Subs?” He asks.

“Do a lot of Subs, what?”

“Like to sleep on the floor?”

“It depends. Usually at one time or another.”

“Do you think I will?”

Harvey smiles into the darkness. “Yes, I think so.”

Mike wrinkles his nose up and flops against the mattress until he has one arm out from under him and around Harvey’s torso.

“Nah. I’m too lazy.”

Harvey and Mike both laugh until they’re breathing hard again in the stillness.

Harvey continues to pet him until he thinks he’s started to drift off to sleep, then, he allows himself to worry and wonder where exactly he went wrong. The kid enjoyed himself, that’s not a question. He enjoyed himself perhaps more than he ever had before. And Harvey, well, even if it was a vanilla scene it was one of his best if only because it was Mike under him. And besides, Mike isn’t ready for much more than the basics. At least, that’s what he’d thought.

“Harvey?”

“Yes.”

“You’re thinking too loud.”

“You’re talking too much.”

“Sorry. What are you thinking about?”

Harvey almost says nothing. Mike’s so tired he’ll probably fall asleep before he realizes his question is unanswered.

“You didn’t reach subspace,” he says finally. “I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong.”

Mike’s eyelashes flutter against his chest as he opens his eyes to think about this.

“Hmm. Yeah but, I feel great.”

“I know. That’s good enough for now.”

“Yeah. It’s good.”

Harvey kisses him on the brow and pulls him in tighter. “Go to sleep.”

 

 

Harvey wakes around four and scrambles around for his phone.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Mike grumbles something beside him and readjusts the arm over his chest.  Harvey squints at the glaring light of his phone until he finds Donna’s number on the speed dial.

Donna answers sounding wide awake.

“Donna,” he whispers, “thank god. Is there any way to destroy last night’s security tapes in the office? It’s massively important. I would call that IT guy, what’s his name? But I don’t know if I can trust -”

“Already taken care of, Harvey.”

Harvey lets out a tight breath. “Really?”

“Yep.”

“You’re amazing. Seriously. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Oh, you have no idea. See you in a few hours.”

Harvey mumbles a goodnight and throws his phone off the side of the bed so he can gather Mike back up into his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

Mike presses the tips of his fingers into the red and purple hickeys on his neck the next morning while standing naked and disheveled in front of Harvey’s bathroom mirror. They’re more sore than he expected but the visible proof of Harvey’s attention makes him smile.

“You look good with my marks.”

Harvey grins at him as he passes. Unlike Mike he’s still dressed, but he lets Mike watch him as he pulls off his silk pants and climbs naked into the shower.

Mike finishes toweling off his hair and watches Harvey through the foggy glass doors. If he were bolder he would climb in with him, but - Harvey’s instructions were very specific on that point. At least for now.

When Mike had woken to the early morning sun shining in through the windows, he suddenly remembered the events of the previous evening. And as delicious as they were he couldn’t stop thinking of the orgasm Harvey hadn’t had. So, thinking it would be a welcome surprise, he curled into Harvey’s sleeping arms and ran his hand boldly down Harvey’s body until he had his cock in hand. The thick heavy weight of it startled him at first. So much so that he'd forgotten what he was planning to do with it. Unlike Mike who has the thinner cock of a Sub, Harvey’s is thick and wide and solid.

While Mike was still thinking about the sheer size of him, Harvey woke and wrapped his own fingers around Mike’s wrist. His voice was gravely and sleep slurred. “Good morning.”

Mike smiled and leaned up for a kiss while slowly moving his hand over the thickening bulge. But before he could get more than a twinge of approval, Harvey gently lifted him away by the wrist. “I don’t like my Subs to initiate, Mike.”

“Sorry. I just thought... maybe I should have been more... maybe last night I should have...”

Harvey shook his head and kissed Mike lightly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just letting you know what the rules are. There’s nothing you should or shouldn’t do except submit and follow my orders. Understood?”

Mike had nodded then, but now, Mike isn’t so sure he understands at all. Why can’t he initiate? What if there’s something he wants, or needs, or - what if now that he can touch Harvey he doesn’t want to sit back and wait around like a good boy.

He looks over at Harvey’s exposed backside as he slicks water back over his hair.

What if he wants to _pounce_?

Mike looks in the mirror while Harvey turns off the water and towels himself off behind him. Mike wishes he had a robe or a towel bigger than the pathetic thing Harvey gave him, or _something_. Standing around naked isn’t exactly the norm for him, even when he’s alone. But when he got out of bed this morning his clothes had disappeared into Harvey’s dry cleaning pile to be cleaned and Harvey had shaken his head when Mike suggested he go to his room for something else to wear.

He brushes his teeth and with a surge of confidence turns and leans back on the vanity with his chin raised high as if warding off any sign of the embarrassment he feels.

“Already practicing for the office?”

“What about it?”

“That Dom face is cute, but kind of inappropriate under the circumstances.”

Mike lets his shoulders relax but holds his chin up defiantly while he rubs at the sleep still lingering in the corner of his eyes.

“I wish we didn’t have to work today.”

“Seconded. But it’s Friday. We can look forward to the weekend.” Harvey grins mischievously and throws his towel in a basket before taking his silk robe from the hook beside the shower. With Harvey clothed Mike feels twice as uncomfortable, and it probably shows since Harvey has mercy on him and comes to stand close with his hands on Mike’s hips, steadying him.

“If you were a registered submissive employee you could take today off without penalty. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Mike cringes and looks the other way, not really interested in seeing Harvey’s ignorant amusement. “No, not exactly. I don’t think submissive discrimination is _nice_. That law is half the reason employers don’t hire us.”

Harvey hums and gently redirects his gaze back with a finger beneath the chin.

“You’re probably right. But the intention is sound. Most Subs don’t easily bounce back from sub-drop.”

Mike twists out of Harvey’s grip and walks into the bedroom. “That wouldn’t be the case if Doms respected their working Sub’s professional responsibilities. Submissive exhaustion is a dominant’s problem, and yet they treat us like wilting flowers.” Mike is wandering around the bed looking for his watch and cuff links. They must be somewhere. 

Harvey catches up to him and points to a little silver tray on the low rise dresser. Mike mumbles a thanks and plucks them out.

“I really should get ready for work.”

Harvey’s eyes are heavy lidded and concerned.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He shrugs. “Life is just fucked, that’s all.”

Harvey gently tucks a wisp of hair behind Mike’s ear and holds him by the shoulder so that he can’t just step away.

“You always make a great point about these things, but,” he tightens his grip, “you also have to understand that it can be more complicated than you know.”

Mike stares at him for a long moment. The conversation is too delicate, too personal, too... heated for what should have been a lazy morning of lovemaking and Mike getting to know if this Dom were worth taking a chance on. Politics seem far too disruptive and he suddenly wants to get away and pretend the conversation never happened. Maybe by the time the day is over he’ll remember how easy it was to play the Sub to Harvey’s Dom when he wasn’t thinking about all these fucked up logistics.

“Can I get dressed now?” Mike asks, but when Harvey doesn’t immediately let him go, his eyes still dark and concerned, his posture still tense, Mike jokes - “I’m still learning to tie a tie. I need extra time or else I’ll be an embarrassment.”

Harvey grins and relaxes his grip, but before letting go completely he leans in and kisses Mike, lingeringly but chastely.

“You couldn’t be an embarrassment. Besides, I won’t let you out of the apartment without checking. At least for another few weeks.” 

 

  
At the office Harvey walks by Mike’s desk so many times that gossip starts brewing in the other cubicles. First it’s a reasonable question, and then it’s an errand Donna or any random assistant could do. After the fourth unnecessary walk through Mike makes an excuse to deliver something to Harvey’s office. On the way there he runs into Rachel.

“Oh, hey.” She smiles and tucks some hair behind her ear. “Seeing Harvey?”

Mike almost trips on a computer cord as he goes by the receptionist counter. “What?”

“I was on my way to bring some research to him too.” She laughs at Mike’s expression. “Wow, Mike, take a breather. You really are working too hard.” They come to Donna’s desk and Rachel turns to him with a grin. “Go first, I’ll probably need longer.”

Mike just nods and slips in through the glass doors.

“Mike, what’s up?"

Mike puts a folder of blank paper down on Harvey’s desk and tries to look casual. “Harvey, you really need to stop coming around every half hour. The other associates are talking.”

Harvey grins and takes a sip of his coffee. “Fine, let them talk. Trust me kid, they’re just jealous that the new guy is getting so much attention.”

“Harvey, I don’t want attention, I want to blend in. We talked about this.” 

“I thought we talked about you wanting a great opportunity. I’m giving you one.”

Mike sighs and scratches at the back of his neck in frustration. “Listen, we both know what this is about and I get it. I sympathize. But, please Harvey.” 

Harvey taps his pen on the desk. “I told you I can keep my personal and private life separate, and I can. But when my Sub is thirty feet away and I can sense him with every breath but I can’t see him, can’t know for sure he’s alright, then yeah, I might make a few more excuses to know for sure.”

Mike blushes. “Your Sub?”

“Yeah. Mine.”

Mike smiles like a fool until he realizes that he’s giving away too much. He coughs, shrugs, and looks away from Harvey’s penetrating gaze.

“Okay, well, just keep it at a minimum. Text me instead or something, if you want to, you know, check.”

Harvey nods.

Mike walks out again just as Harvey opens his folder, laughs, and tosses it in the trash. Outside Rachel is leaning against Donna’s desk with a distinctive blush to her cheek and a hint of smile around the lips.

“All done?” She asks.

“Yep. Sorry I made you wait.”

“It’s not a problem. Donna kept me busy.” She gestures over and Donna licks her lips without ever taking her eyes from the computer. Once Rachel is out of earshot Mike leans over the desk.

“What was that about?”

She shrugs. “None of your business, nosy. Besides, aren't you busy enough with your own personal life?"

 

Harvey spends an hour on Friday clicking back and forth between a file saved in his personal folder and his packed full email. It's not like it hasn't occurred to him that Mike would be - delicate. But, it has been a long time since he's been in a relationship important enough to need a contract. Usually these things are simple enough for Harvey to just figure out, or if not, a brief conversation with a Sub is usually enough to iron out the kinks - _so to speak_. But Mike’s different. Mike is something Harvey has never encountered before. Inexperienced, just a bit damaged, and - God help him - more precious than anything he's ever had before.

Making up his mind he clicks over to his simple limits checklist and prints one out. He slips it into a manilla folder.

He unlocks his phone and types out a message to Mike.

_I'm sending you home early. Come by my office on your way out._

Within ten minutes Mike is peering through the door. "Why? I have work to do here. It’s only four."

"Anything critical?"

"Not really, but -"

"You won't see me interrupting a work day for personal reasons again, but I'm a selfish man and I want you to finish something before I go home tonight." He holds the folder out to a perplexed Mike. “I’ve also sent a copy to your personal email.”

He takes it, flicks it open, and shuts it again with a violent blush. "For fucks sake! Harvey, is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"Is this because of,” he stutters, “what I told you?"

"Partly. But it's also because I want to be responsible, and I can't do that until you decide what you need and what," he taps his fingers nervously against the table, "what you can't tolerate."

"Harvey, really, I don't know." He's flushed and already crinkling the folder between his fingers. "Can't we just, figure it out as we go along? Or maybe, could we do this together?"

Harvey shakes his head. "It's important that you make these decisions without my influence. Go home, make some tea, and do the best you can. Email me what you think, it’s less disconcerting that way. Anything you feel really unsure about we'll go over together soon. There's nothing on there that I'm not prepared to give to a Sub. It's my own personal list. But, honestly, I, well I haven't cared enough to give it to a Sub in a while"

Mike nods, his mind going double speed, probably looking over all the little check boxes in that incredibly perfect brain of his from just that quick glance. "Yeah, okay. I'll try."

"Good." He smiles. "I'd like nothing more than to follow you home and get started with the practical demonstrations, but -"

Mike grins. "We have the whole weekend." He slips the folder into his briefcase and grins shyly as he rounds Donna's desk and disappears down the hall. Donna turns around and gives him a look. Just then his phone rings.

"Did you give him _the thing?_ " Donna’s voice is excited in that way only really great gossip makes it.

"You need to stop listening in on my meetings."

She rolls her eyes. "Soooo boring. Why do you think I keep this job? And furthermore, why do you think I'm so good at it?"

He shakes his head fondly. "Yeah, I gave it to him."

"Don't take it personally. There will always be," she looks around to see who might be listening before whispering, "there will always be Subs who need formalized boundaries. You might think you're the greatest living Dom, but even you need a little help."

Harvey props his feet up on his desk. "I'm not the greatest living Dom. But I am the best in the office, that's for sure."

Donna's mouth falls open in shock. "You know what, I've seen your little list and mine is way more interesting."

Harvey rolls his eyes and hangs up the phone, determined to wait out the next few hours without worrying too much about Mike.

At quarter after six an email dings on Harvey’s personal account.

Harvey quickly sets aside the papers he was piddling with, trying to bide his time waiting. Harvey opens the file, but before he has time to look it over his phone buzzes.

_What if you don't want me after this?_

The words are so vulnerable that Harvey feels his chest flutter.

_Impossible._

_Okay good. Just checking._

 

When Harvey wanders into the apartment a few hours later Mike is curled up on his couch with the cup of tea he’d suggested sitting cold on the coffee table.

“Use a coaster in the future,” Harvey says.

Mike rolls his eyes. “You _would_ focus on that.”

Harvey loosens his tie before walking up behind Mike who is clutching a pillow to his chest defensively and shifting his eyes away whenever Harvey looks at him. He grips the kid’s chin and leans his head back for a long lingering upside down kiss. Mike returns the kiss obediently but without any of the passion of the night before.

“Are we talking about it now?”

“What?”

Mike looks aggravated. “My email. I’ve been sitting here panicking for an hour and you pretend like you don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

Harvey rubs a hand down Mike’s chest firmly. “This doesn’t require a formal interview, Mike. It just helped give me better information about you.”

Mike nods but doesn’t loosen his grip on the pillow. Harvey sits down next to him and gently coaxes him off the couch and on to his knees. He goes, reluctantly.

“What do you need to talk about, Mike?”

He glances up and there are so many muddled up emotions in his eyes that Harvey aches for him. Maybe the checklist hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Most Subs are so familiar with the things a Dom does to them, or with them. And the things a Sub does for their Dom, that a checklist is just a formality. For Mike, it must have seemed like a whole new terrifying world of possibilities has exploded and he doesn’t have a fucking clue what to expect.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Harvey asks in lieu of an answer.

“Yes.”

“What are you afraid of then? I wouldn't do anything you couldn't handle.”

“Yeah.” He’s wringing his hands and the muscles in his shoulders are cramped up tight. “It’s just. Some of the things I didn’t list as soft limits are starting to sound more alarming now that I can’t take them back.”

“Mike, you can always revise what you want or don’t want in a relationship. But I would like it if you’d let me show you some things before you make new decisions. Not everything a Dom does to a Sub is supposed to be fun. Sometimes it’s supposed to... recalibrate you.”

Mike’s eyebrows knit together as he looks up at him.

“And the thing I said. At the end?”

Harvey pets him, paying particular attention to the hair that always sticks up around his ears and the frown lines in his forehead.

“I’ve never had a Sub question that rule before.”

“I’m not just any Sub. I want to be able to kiss you if I want to.”

Harvey laughs. “That’s not what I meant when I said I didn’t want you initiating. You can kiss me whenever you’d like. I just wouldn't like it if my Subs started designing our scenes.”

Mike thinks about this.

“Is this negotiable?”

“Perhaps.”

“What if - what if I can initiate so long as I submit once we start.”

Harvey smiles. “That might be acceptable. But, if I want to withdraw my permission, I have the right to do that for a certain period of time.”

Mike looks aggravated. “Well what’s the point then? If you can just revert our negotiations at any time, then why negotiate at all?” He ducks out of Harvey’s touch and sits back on his heels where Harvey can’t reach him.

“Because if you can’t trust me to respect your wishes and also to decide what’s best for you, even if you don’t think it’s fair, then what’s the point of any of this, Mike?” He tries to keep his tone reasonable, but it’s hard. He’s never had a Sub be such a willful over-thinker. “Either you submit to me, or you don’t. If you want to play at being the Dom in the office, fine. Shit, haven’t I been helping you? But I don’t want a Dom for a partner, I want a Sub.”

“I am a Sub.”

“I know. Now let me show you how nice it is to be one.”

Mike sighs and leans back down on Harvey’s knee, but he doesn’t find any relaxation there. Harvey can sense the storm cloud of thoughts and emotions battling around inside him.

“When was the last time you were in subspace?”

“I dunno. Before you got back from London.”

“That’s too long.”

Mike shrugs. “I’ve gone a lot longer.”

Harvey sits back in his chair and rests his hand atop Mike’s head.

“I want you to pick a safeword.”

Mike looks at him. “Is that going to be necessary?”

“It’s always necessary. Even bonded couples should have a safeword.”

Mike looks away for him for a long time.

“Carl Sandvick”

Harvey frowns. “Who is that?”

“He’s one of the Doms who - you know.”

Harvey cringes. “Mike, no. Please.”

“What? I don’t like saying it if I don’t absolutely have to, and now that you know it’ll make you stop.”

“And it’ll also make both you and me equate whatever we’re doing to rape,” Harvey says bitterly.

Mike looks apologetic. “I didn’t think of that.”

“A safe-word should allow a couple to stop, evaluate, and negotiate. It shouldn’t be so emotionally charged. Let’s think of something more generic. How about _subpoena?_ Bringing law into the bedroom will stop me well enough.”

“Fair. Let’s go with that.”

Harvey tugs at Mike’s shirt and guides him up until he’s straddling his lap with hands on each hip. Mike smiles sadly and rests his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I brought it up, before.”

“Don’t be. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is. If you think it’s not then we have a bigger problem.”

Mike rests in the hollow of his shoulder with his face carefully hidden.

“I want you to go in my room, strip off your clothes and lay on the bed.”

Mike looks up at him, his eyes pleading.

“You said you trust me?” He nods. “Then go. I don’t like asking twice.”

He can hear faint popping sounds in Mike’s joints as he unfolds himself and walks unsteadily down the hall. Harvey listens carefully for the sounds of Mike undressing. When the sounds have stopped and he’s sure Mike is laying out on his bed, he looks at the clock and waits. Ten minutes. This might be a bad idea, it really might. But his instincts are winning out.

When the ten minutes are up he stands, takes off his jacket so he looks that much less intimidating, and goes into the bedroom. Mike’s eyes find him immediately and he pulls his knees together shyly.

Harvey stands beside him, watching his Sub’s heavy breathing and whipcord tight muscles. He runs his hands down each leg, urging them out straight and relaxed, then he takes each arm and does the same.

“You look beautiful like this.”

Mike closes his eyes, turns his head away, and gulps.

Harvey thinks about correcting the avoidance, but, the rest of the night is designed to do just that, and it should be enough. He leaves one hand resting on Mike’s thigh for comfort and opens the second drawer of his night stand to pull out a black-out eye mask. He holds it up for Mike to see.

“I won’t hurt you, Mike. I promise. But this is going to be different from anything you’ve done before. Tell me again that you trust me. I need to hear it.”

Mike nods. “Yeah. I trust you, Harvey.”

“Good boy.” The words alone make something click in Mike’s eyes. Harvey slips the elastic around the back of his head and places the fabric down over his closed eyes. Harvey’s used this mask himself a couple times with hangovers. Even the most stubborn light can’t penetrate it.

“Shit. It’s really dark.”

Harvey doesn’t respond he just goes over to his dresser and unlocks the bottom drawer with a key. Mike’s head is turned toward the noise. Harvey take out what he needs and lays them out. First, the cuffs. He uses the most comfortable ones he has. Plush lined with durable but soft fabric buckles. Mike doesn’t resist him when he ties each foot and wrist to the four corners of the bed. Harvey adjust the straps until he’s pulled too snug to move much from his position.

“Are you comfortable?” Harvey asks.

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

Mike smiles. “How long before you stop worrying about me?”

Harvey laughs. “Probably never. Now stop talking unless I ask you something.”

“Okay.”

Harvey’s desire to force him to call him sir is overwhelming. But not quite yet. After this, maybe.

Harvey brings the last two things over and sets them down beside Mike on the bed.

“I’m going to gag you. If you need to safeword out, do it now.”

Mike squirms around on the bed and licks him lips.

“No. It’s okay.”

Harvey wipes his fingers along Mike’s lips in encouragement to open. But with his delicious looking lips soft and gaping and inviting he can’t help bending down to kiss and nip and swipe his tongue in and around the folds of his lips. When he moves away he replaces his lips with a finger, which Mike generously takes into his mouth and sucks. Harvey breathes hard, panting and moaning at the sensation. When it becomes too much he pulls his finger out and presses the rubber ball gag to the lips which take the obtrusion without fuss. Harvey buckles everything in place and then places the last thing - a pair of thick noise canceling headphone. He switches them on to a low white noise and then steps back, admiring his work.

Mike is gagged, bound, and helpless in his bed. And if Harvey’s not mistaken, slowly coming to terms with how disorienting sensory deprivation can be.

Mike hadn’t listed it as a limit, which is good. He suspects that for a Sub with a brain like Mike’s, this particularly type of mental restraint is going to be essential. Harvey sits back in his reading chair and grabs a book, knowing full well that he can’t just stare at a Sub for this long without going crazy. He sets his phone for twenty minutes. When it beeps he looks up. Mike is pulling at the restraints and tossing his head side to side. Harvey stands beside the bed and gently slides two hands over Mike’s stomach. He moans and presses up against the touch. His cock is hardening against his stomach and leaking pre-come. Harvey wants to touch, but resists. Instead he adjusts the headphones up two notches so that the white noise is subtly louder. Then, he goes back to his chair.

He sets the second alarm for thirty minutes, and when it dings, Mike is desperate. He’s pulling hard enough to bruise, but Harvey knows the restraints are too forgiving to allow it. The curve of his neck is pronounced as he strains himself. Harvey strokes Mike’s face and neck and runs his hands down over his chest and belly. Mike is practically screaming against the rubber when Harvey’s hands gather up his cock to pull at it until he’s hard and desperately close to coming. When Mike is just on the edge he releases him, turns up the headphones, and backs away, ignoring Mike’s struggles with as much indifference as he can muster. But he’s not made of stone, so after setting the clock for a final forty minutes he sits back and lets himself jack off to Mike’s desperate struggling. He comes all over himself with a shout, and then lays back to catch his breath. When he looks back to Mike he’s already starting to submit and it makes him smile. Maybe this will work after all.

When the last alarm sounds Mike has stopped pulling and is laying motionless on the bed. His breath is even and the tension in his fingers has loosened. If Harvey didn’t know better, he’d think the kid was sleeping. But when he again lays his hands down on each thigh Mike barely reacts, he just turns his head toward him and takes a long deep breath in through his nose. His chest rises and falls, but nothing else even twitches. Harvey rubs his hands up and down Mike’s legs and then rubs the tips of his fingers teasingly on the sensitive inner thigh, and all the way up to the warm crease where groin meets thigh. Mike’s erection has wilted, just as he suspected, but that doesn't stop him from wrapping his fist around him and stroking. Mike's breath quickens and he gently presses his pelvis up, but other than that he just lays back, trusting, in that astoundingly beautiful way Subs do, that their Dom will take care of them. When his erection is painfully hard again Harvey can't resist the urge to bend over and inhale the intoxicating scent of him, and when that isn't enough he lets his eyes flutter up to Mike's half masked face while he swipes the flat of his tongue from base to tip where he gathers up the fragrant pre-come. Mike keens and his toes curl. Harvey smiles brilliantly as he finishes pulling him off until he comes with a low guttural groan.

Harvey watches from a distance as Mike comes down from his high and peacefully settles back into his restraints without fuss. Only then does he use a soft cloth to first wipe the spit from around the gag, and then wash away the come from his belly.

He could give Mike another ten minutes, or another two hours, and it wouldn’t matter. He’s deep in subspace now.

Harvey takes off his clothes and puts them away, then he turns off all the lights in the apartment so the room is dark.

Starting with his feet Harvey removes the cuffs and rubs at the skin underneath. Mike doesn’t respond aside from a few twitches of his toes. Harvey then gives the same treatment to his arms and helps him adjust them back down to his sides. In the morning he’ll need a shoulder massage to get the kinks out.

Finally, he removes the gag, the blindfold, and the head phones. Mike blinks up at him dreamily, his eyes tired and sensitive to even the minimal light in the room.

“Drink this.” He holds up Mike’s head while he sips and then lays him back down again.

“I feel - ”

“You don’t have to talk. Just try to rest.”

Mike turns his head toward Harvey who is climbing into bed and arranging the sheets and blankets over them both. Mike rolls gratefully into Harvey’s arms with a sigh.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

Harvey kisses him on the forehead and then tilts his chin up for a kiss on the lips. “You’re welcome. Now, go to sleep.”


	10. Chapter 10

Harvey wakes Mike up with a mouth around his cock. Really, he can't help himself. He’d lain awake, staring down at his Sub, until he could no longer resist the opportunity to see what sounds he would make without a gag in his mouth.

"Fucking hell. Harvey." Mike lifts his heels up along the mattress and lets his knees fall open. Harvey hums in approval and settles more comfortably between his thighs. He flicks his tongue along the swelling tip of Mike’s bobbing erection and grins when Mike hisses and throws an arm over his red flushed face.

“Don’t hide your face from me,” he says, lifting off. Mike drops his arm but refuses to look at him. Harvey frowns, moves up over his body and kisses him on the corner of the mouth. He stacks up all the pillows at the head of the bed and urges Mike to recline onto them.  
   
“I want to see your face, and I want you to watch. We don’t have anything to hide or be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed,” he says in a whisper. Harvey strokes his cock with one hand teasingly. “It’s just, overwhelming.”

Harvey kisses him, deeper this time, and slides back down to suck again at the tip of his cock. He glances up at Mike who is looking at him half lidded and with that little O of the lips that always makes Harvey want to come in a Sub’s mouth - but, that’s for another time. Mike’s hand is laying against his stomach, the fingers moving unsurely against his belly.

“You can,” Harvey encourages. Mike smiles and gently runs his fingers through Harvey’s hair with pleasurable concentration as if exploring new territory, but when Harvey swallows him again, this time with purpose, Mike cries out and his fingers dig into his scalp. He pulls at his hair painfully and Harvey loves it so much that he’s rubbing himself off against his thousand dollar egyptian cotton sheets.

"Fuck!" Mike lifts his hips off the mattress and presses his cock deep down Harvey’s throat as he comes. Harvey licks him clean then sits back on his heels with a grin, admiring his hard work and completely blissed out Sub.

"Do most Doms -" Mike starts, but he has to take a few deep shuttering breaths before he can continue. "Do most Doms like doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Sucking cock."

Harvey runs his hands along Mike's sweat dampened chest. "There's no formula. I like to look and feel and taste my Subs. And I won't pretend I haven't wanted to taste you in particular for a long long time."

"You've only known me for three weeks."

"Hmm. Then, I've been waiting to taste a Sub _like_ you for longer."

"Like me? What am I like?"

Harvey thinks about this. "I don't know. Inexplicably irresistible."

Mike smiles and Harvey enjoys the naturally serene look of comfort and peace that he hasn’t had the pleasure to observe in him before. Knowing that it was he who put him there, and not the drugs, makes it all that much better.

"I thought you might have a thing for short hair. Ethan said you did." He's smiling.

"It's a new development. When did you talk to Ethan?"

Mike clams up and turns his head away. Harvey gently touches his chin to direct him back again. He keeps petting his chest to keep him oriented.

"I said, when did you talk to Ethan?"

"Yesterday. No. The day before."

"Before he left the apartment without permission?"

Mike nods.

"What did you talk about?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?” He stretches and Harvey admires fondly the faint marks on his wrists from the night before. “It isn't important."

"It's important to me."

Mike sighs. "He just gave me some friendly advice, okay?"

"Friendly advice? Mike, he left the apartment without telling me. He wasn't supposed to leave the couch!"

Mike wrinkles up his nose. "God, Harvey. Controlling much?"

"If I'm scening with a Sub I expect them to stay where I put them. I’m a Dom, Mike. Me controlling you during a scene is the whole point."

Mike swallows and runs his hand over Harvey's thigh. "I know that. I do. It's just all really new for me."

Harvey bends down and kisses him long and deep and until both their lips are swollen and hot.

"Ethan left because he hoped he'd convinced me to give you what he thought you really wanted," Mike whispers against his lips.

"What a smart boy. But I think you would have come to me anyway."

He nods. "Eventually."

They lay together for nearly an hour just touching, kissing, and watching the sun light up the New York skyline.

"I was thinking,” Harvey finally says when he hears a little rumble in Mike’s stomach, “that because of that bit of snark you left on your checklist yesterday about housework, you get to make breakfast. I might have a cleaning service, but that shouldn't exclude me the opportunity to watch you cooking naked."

 

 

Mike finds it surprisingly easy to walk around Harvey's kitchen bare assed, even occasionally bending down to get things from the bottom shelf. When he finds the mixing bowl he stands up and smiles back at Harvey who is sitting at the counter with his coffee and newspaper. He’s practically humming like some fucking Disney princess while pouring milk and cracking eggs into Harvey's weird organic pancake batter.

There's definitely something different about this morning. It could be any number of things - the fact that it's Saturday, the fact that he now has minimal experience being gawked at naked by Harvey, or maybe it has something to do with the subspace - well, Harvey would definitely say that were true.

Whichever it is, while it lasts Mike plans to enjoy the easy feeling of submitting and getting the reward of approval in return.

"So what's your big Saturday plan? More housework and a bit of sex on the side?" Mike licks some batter off his fingers and raises his eyebrows suggestively.

"You might not care now, but in a few days you'll resent me if I make you polish my furniture all day ."

Mike shrugs. "I thought this was supposed to be an exercise in submission?"

Harvey nods. "You're right. But you've done enough for now. I thought a reward would be in order."

"A reward? Like a dog treat?"

Harvey laughs. "I'm going to have to paddle that snark out of you one of these days."

The suggestion is enough to make Mike's hands tremble. He sets down the wooden spoon that suddenly looks a lot more naughty.

Harvey sits in silence while Mike finishes the pancakes and serves them in little oblong not-so-perfect piles. A couple are burnt, but he puts those on his own plate. He sets out two forks and a bottle of syrup. "I'm not a chef or anything, so I hope this is adequate, your highness." He makes a little bow with a flourish of the wrist. If housework is in his future he might as well commit himself to the Cinderella act.

Harvey looks at him over his paper and when Mike comes around to sit on the stool he whips out a hand and strikes him hard against the ass.

"Shit!" Mike stares at him open mouthed.

"Warning number one."

He rubs the hot spot blossoming and sits down gingerly. "Yes, sir." Mike keeps his hands over his lap to try hiding his exposed cock.

“I’d have started spanking you earlier if I’d known it would win me some respect.” Mike blushes as Harvey runs a hand up his thigh and nudges aside his hand to cup his erection. He sets down his paper and leans over to kiss and bite the sensitive skin behind Mike’s ear. “Remember what I said about embarrassment? Don’t cover yourself from me.” Mike gulps and nods, his breathing already speeding up under Harvey’s confident caress, but before it has time to go any further Harvey releases him and picks up his fork. He looks at the two plates with a frown and then switches them. “I like them better burnt anyway.”

 

 

"I'm taking you out," Harvey says while they lay together on the leather couch watching a movie on his pay-per-view. Mike hasn't really bothered to notice that the sun is starting to set. Harvey let him get dressed after breakfast so he's been at leisure to forget about the alarming new dynamics between them. At least for the afternoon.

Mike is laying between Harvey's legs and resting against his broad chest. They were both so comfortable that Mike startles a little and shifts as if a cloud of peace has lifted. Harvey holds Mike against him with one arm and uses the other to continue playing with his hair.

"Where?"

"That's entirely up to you."

"What do you mean? Like, I guess I could go for some Chinese?"

Harvey laughs. "I meant, would you like to go out as my Sub, or my associate?"

Mike turns his head away and after a minute he sits up and rubs his face. "Seriously? After submitting to you for two days you're already pressuring me to come out?"

Harvey looks hurt, but he buries it quickly. "I don't want you to compromise yourself, Mike. It’s just... there's a club I know - The Underground. It’s really only popular with the college scene so no one we know would be there. We could go, get a drink. I don’t want you to feel you have to stay closeted up in this apartment."

"Closeted?” Mike stares at Harvey who looks as serious as steel. “You know what, if you want to take me out, you can do it as my boss." Mike raises his eyebrows. “And if in the future you have a problem with me being _closeted_ you can just go back in time and not hire me under the full disclosure that my submissiveness never be public.”

Harvey swallows and nods. "Fine. Get ready and we'll go in an hour. Chinese."

Mike stands and walks past him into his room where he shuts his door a little too loudly. When he comes out into the hall an hour later Harvey is waiting by the door in one of his more casual but no less intimidating suits. Mike pockets his keys before reaching for the door.

"Mike." He turns slightly and finds Harvey immediately up against him and his lips almost too rough as he fights entrance into Mike's mouth, demanding supplication with a firm grip around his chin. Harvey kisses him until he's hard and panting.

"What was that for?"

"I’ll promise not to push the issue of your public image, and I'll pretend to take you out as my associate, but I do have the right to remind you that you're more than that to me."

Mike nods. "I know, Harvey."

Harvey holds the door open and leads him down the hallway and into the building's elevator.

 

 

"So how was your weekend? Uneventful?" Mike looks over at Kyle who is stretching and yawning. It’s barely ten minutes into Monday morning and Kyle usually never wants to talk to him, or anybody. He’s usually looking dead in his cubicle with two cups of coffee sitting in front of him.

Mike shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so."

Harvey and Mike had woken up from a sleep that hadn't included subspace, much to Harvey's disappointment. A disappointment that would become more and more worthwhile to Mike if blow-jobs were going to be the consolation prize. Honestly, it wasn’t exactly something to get upset about. Mike averaged one joint of Subspace a week or less, and he was pretty sure Harvey was going to do better than that, even if it didn’t happen every scene. However, Mike was starting to get a bit upset with Harvey for batting his hand away whenever he went for his cock. Eventually Mike was going to need to do some actual work in this relationship - wasn’t he?

"I know, that's always the way when something weird happens."

Mike snaps out of his memory and looks over at Kyle curiously. "What do you mean, weird?"

"What? Didn't you hear? It was all over the news."

Mike shrugs as one of the other associates looks from their cubicle, ready to join in on the explanation.

"Well there’s this little club in the East Village. The Underground?”

Mike narrows his eyes curiously. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You’ve been there? Cool, no one I know has.” He’s smiling.

“No. No I haven’t been there, but I’ve heard of it.”

"Well, some Dom came in Saturday night and paid a bundle to arrange a huge orgy. Like seven or eight Subs all to himself."

Mike nods. It was a little weird, definitely, but not unheard of. His parents generation loved doing shit like that, and when he was in high school it was the thing junior year to start orgies in back bedrooms during parties. Doms would make bets to see who could have the most Subs join in.

"Anyway, they found all the Subs dead a few hours later."

Mike drops the paper he’d been holding and hides his shaking hand under the desk.

"All of them?" His voice loses its dominant control, but they probably won't distinguish it from regular disbelief. Mike looks at the associate to his other side and cringes at the grin on his face - that strange look of uncomfortable curiosity that people show when gossiping about really heinous things that seem completely outside their own realm of reality. Mike gulps.

"And the Dom?"

"He offed himself too."

Mike nods. "And nobody pulled a panic trigger? What about the safety camera?"

Kyle shakes his head. "Crazy right? It was poison or something. They haven’t gotten the test results back, but it was pretty much over before anyone knew something was wrong. But the shit he did first is still pretty radical. Though, apparently not off limits. The details are all over the internet if you know where to look."

Mike turns away and looks at his reflection in the computer screen. He couldn't really tell but he must be losing color fast judging by the tingling heat in his cheeks and sick feeling in his stomach.

"I think I heard the security tape has leaked too.”

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for telling me," Mike says before turning on his computer screen and mindlessly scrolling through his weekend emails. Kyle says something that Mike doesn't catch, laughs, and plops down behind his cubicle wall.

No less than a half hour later Mike's phone buzzes. It’s Harvey.

_Did you hear?_

_Yeah._

_This is me texting first when I want to check on you._

Mike grins despite the cold sweat that hasn't quite dissipated. He’s starting to feel more and more ridiculous for freaking out over something that really has nothing to do with him. After all, bad things happen, it’s not the first story like this, and even if he had gone to the club with Harvey, it still wouldn’t have put him at risk.

_Thanks. I'm okay._

_I don't believe you._

_I'm okay until the end of the day. Can we talk later?_

There's no answer for a long time.

_I’m sorry I offered to take you there._

_How could you have known? Don’t be stupid._

_You'll come by if you need me?_

_Yes. But I'll be fine. Really._

Mike drops his phone into one of his drawers where he doesn't have to stare at it all day and think about how much better he would feel if Harvey were here.

At lunch he realizes that he hasn't seen anything of Rachel and decides that at least she is an acceptable workplace distraction. He grabs the number for a pizza place that had been delivering menus the previous week and wanders over to her office. She's sitting behind her desk, her hair slightly disheveled, reading something on her computer with a look of pained concentration.

Mike knocks on the door frame. She startles.

“Mike. Hey. Come in.” She quickly clicks out of something on her computer and smiles when she sees the pizza menu he’s holding up.

“Hungry?”

She nods. “Yeah, sure.”

Mike sits and takes out his phone.

“Actually, you know what. Can I rain check?” He looks up and frowns at her tired eyes and pale complexion. He hadn’t noticed before, so intent on finding something normal to distract him.

“Rachel, are you alright?”

“It’s so stupid. But that thing Saturday. I knew one of the girls who died.”

“Oh my god.”

Rachel tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and shakes her head. “No. I guess I didn’t really know her at all. She was one of my roommate’s friends in college. Elise. I must have only seen her a half dozen times. And it’s not like we even had any meaningful conversations. All I remember was thinking she was a complete slut.” She laughs. “Now it seems like such a terrible thing to have thought. I mean, some Subs need different things, you know?” She looks at Mike and then rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot. You wouldn’t know.”

Mike tucks the menu and his phone back in his suit pocket. “No, I guess not.” He rubs his hands together anxiously under the edge of her desk. “But still, I’m really sorry.”

She nods slowly. “I was thinking about watching that video that’s going around. Isn’t that sick? What the fuck’s wrong with me?”

Mike looks behind his shoulder to see Donna loitering around the corner of the receptionist table, looking in at them with concern. When he looks back at Rachel, she too has noticed and there’s something desperate and needy in her eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. I was upset too.”

“Really? Most Doms around here are just tutting their tongues and then gathering in the break rooms to compare how many Subs they’ve had at one time. As if this were such a great opportunity to relive their orgy memories.”

“That’s fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” She shakes her hair out and wipes at the moisture under her eyes. “I shouldn’t have emotionally vomited on you. Professionalism is key, right?”

Mike shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

When she looks over his shoulder Mike is pretty sure he knows who she’s looking at.

“Hey, Rachel. I can tell her to come in here if you want.”

“Why would I want that?”

“I just thought -”

“I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

He sighs. “Yeah. I know the feeling.” Mike stands and brushes off his suit. “Thanks for telling me about - everything. But don’t bottle things up too much. Trust me, it doesn’t pay off in the end.”

Out in the hall Donna stops him with a hand on his arm.

“Harvey might stop pacing his office if you walk by and let him see that you didn’t faint dead away.”

“Seriously? He really does think I’m Cinderella.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

 

 

Mike spends the rest of the day feeling guiltily glad to have found Rachel in twice the state that he was, and for a much better reason. He buries himself in his work and at ten after six, just as Mike is thinking that he might actually get home before Harvey, he gets a text.

_Emergency. I’ve tried everything but I can’t get home until late._

Something in Mike’s chest grinds to a halt. The phone buzzes again.

_If you need me, text. I’m so sorry._

It’s a little irrational to be upset. Especially after an entire day of feeling gradually more and more okay about the whole thing. But then, that was mostly because he’d been looking forward to going home to Harvey. It looks like the honeymoon weekend is over and it’s time to face the fact that Harvey is a big busy mega-lawyer who won’t have time to bend over backwards for Mike.

He runs a shaky hand through his hair and opens up a text box. He hasn’t seen Trevor in a really long time. And if he can’t be with Harvey, he damn well is going to be with someone.

_Up for a drink?_

_Yeah. Same old same old?_

Mike agrees and tosses the phone back in the drawer. After a few more emails he grabs his briefcase and heads out. He glances at Harvey’s office, feeling a cold flush of disappointment to find it empty and dark.

He meets Trevor at a bar near his old apartment and feels joyously normal and carefree like he hasn’t in a long time. The music is loud but the crowds are louder. Trevor looks good and tells him that he estimates a month or less before he gets Jenny back. Mike tells him about his new job, but lies through his teeth about most of it.

“Jenny told me you moved.”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just closer to this new office.”

Trevor nods and takes another sip of his beer.

“Bummer. I liked that dump.”

Mike shrugs. “Grown up life and all that. It had to happen eventually.”

“So let’s go there. I want to see it.”

Mike shakes his head. “Not now. Another time.”

“No, come on! Show me the address at least. I have the right to know where my best friend lives. We’ll walk there together. Remember how much we used to like walking around New York at night and checking out the crazies.”

Mike laughs and checks his watch. “Yeah, okay.”

They finish another two beers each before they finally make their way out. Mike laughs like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen when Trevor stumbles into a Sub in a too short skirt and eight inch heels. She wobbles like a bad clown on stilts.

They reminisce about the streets they used to frequent as kids and the one electronic store they pass that Trevor shoplifted a video game from. Mike smiles like a fool, not thinking of Harvey once until Trevor stops and pulls him into a short alley next to a little Italian restaurant a few blocks from Harvey’s building. He pulls a joint of Subspace from his shirt pocket and smiles.

“I’m not selling, I swear. Just buying. But this is really good stuff. Way better than the shit I sold.” He twirls it between his fingers. “Share it with me? It won’t be so much that we can’t make it home. I’ll take a cab.”

Mike shakes his head. “No. It’s okay.”

“Come on man, you have to get a hit now and again. We used to smoke together all the time in high school.” He sniffs it then holds it up to Mike’s nose. It smells so good Mike moans despite himself. “It’s just a little bit.”

Mike stares at the appealing little joint and thinks about how good he’ll feel and how mad he still is at Harvey for abandoning him. He checks his watch. It’s after midnight. He can take a shower in the morning before work and Harvey will never know the difference. He shrugs. “Okay, fine. Why not.”

Trevor smiles, flicks open the lighter in his pocket, and lights the end. It glows red in the dark alley, lighting up the concentrated look on his face as he inhales. Mike takes his turn and sighs luxuriously at the divine feeling rushing through his body. Not as good as what Harvey makes him feel, that’s for sure, but really good nonetheless. The fragrant smoke billows between them as they smoke chest to chest.

“You’ll always be my best friend. You know that right?” Trevor’s eyes have drooped and he’s talking in that lazy sentimental way he does when he’s too drunk, or too high, or both.

Mike and Trevor have to lean on each other as they make their way to the apartment. Mike’s hard and all he can think about now is Harvey and getting off.

At the front of the building Trevor whistles. “Damn.” Mike shrugs and fumbles in his pocket for his key. “Now you know where it is, as if you’ll remember.”

“I have you to remember for me.”

Mike smiles and shakes his head as Trevor and the doorman work together to flag down a cab. The ride up the elevator feels like forever, but the cold metal doors against his hot forehead make up for it. By the time he has his front door open Mike is thinking obsessively about jacking off to memories of Harvey’s mouth on him. He’s even thinking about how good it would feel to finally touch Harvey’s cock.

He fumbles with the lock to his own door when a light turns on in the living room.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Mike jumps and drops his keys. “Shit, Harvey.”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” He sounds pissed, but Mike can’t really tell in this state.

“Uhm?” He feels around his suit pocket and then remembers the drawer. “Oh yeah. I think I left it at the office.” He keeps his head tilted down as he picks up the keys and tries again to open the door. “Sorry. Were you worried or something?”

“Worried. I thought you were hurt. It’s one thirty in the morning on a Monday.”

“I saw Trevor. We stay out late sometimes.” He opens the door and throws his suitcase in. He’s about to go when Harvey grabs him around the back of the neck and twirls him around. He looks into Mike’s eyes with more venom than he’s ever seen.

“I can’t fucking believe it. You’re high!”


	11. Chapter 11

“I can’t fucking believe it. You’re high!”

Mike guiltily lowers his gaze to hide whatever it is that’s giving him away, but he should know, and he does know, that it’s not enough. Not with Harvey. But the problem is that he feels so fuzzy that Harvey’s anger isn’t really registering.

Wasn’t he planning on jacking off?

Harvey doesn’t let go of his neck right away so Mike falls forward onto his chest, leans his cheek on his shoulder and just smells his skin. Everything seems so intense right now and Harvey’s Dom smell is more intoxicating than it’s been since... well, he vaguely remembers it being even better when he was tied down and getting sucked a couple nights ago. That was better. It had seemed like Harvey belonged to him then - only him. And now, well, now Mike wants to lick the scent right off.

He noses aside the collar of Harvey’s shirt and rubs his lips against him, moaning. Harvey growls something and pushes him away. Mike is leaning his weight back against the wall as Harvey holds him up by the shoulders, his eyes thunderous.

“I said, why?”

Mike shakes his head. “What?”

“Why the fuck did you go out and get high? If you needed to be in subspace so badly I would have -” his voice seems to crackle, but Mike might just be hearing things. Hadn't he read that hallucinations could be a side effect? “I would have done anything for you.”

Mike nods. That makes sense. He knew that. Wait, did he know that? And wasn’t Mike mad at Harvey about something? Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter. Mike just really really wants to sleep and come and sleep and...

Mike runs his fingers along the hand on his shoulder until it relaxes, then he takes it and moves it down to his cock.

“Please?”

Harvey’s eyes are closed and his breath uneven as Mike holds his placid hand in place and rubs it over his erection. “Please, I need to come so bad. Harvey, please, make me come.”

When he takes two steps forward, Mike smiles, but just when he thinks he’s home free Harvey twists his hand around, grips his wrist hard, and pulls him into Mike’s room.

“Sit on the bed.”

Mike nods and does as he’s told. He sits there moaning softly with one hand back to rubbing at his erection through the seam of his pants. He must have fallen back against the bed because a little while later Harvey is dragging him up by the arm.

“You have to remember to always hang up your suits. Trust me you don’t want to have deal with the state they’d be in if you left them on the floor.” His voice is weak sounding. Mike nods then tries to go for Harvey’s lips, but he bats Mike away with a firm hand against his cheek, then starts undoing Mike’s tie.

“Harvey.”

“What?”

“Let me blow you. I want to.” He buckles at the knees a little to get down on the floor and bury his face against Harvey’s dick, but something keeps him standing.

“No.”

Harvey pulls Mike’s arms out of his jacket sleeves and unbuttons his shirt. At some point Mike sees his belt sitting on the bed beside him and before he knows what exactly is going on he’s naked except for his boxers, which are barely containing his leaking erection. Mike grins and rubs himself while waiting for Harvey to come back. This’ll be good. But, wasn’t Harvey mad at him? And wasn’t he mad at Harvey?

Harvey returns from making noises in his closet. He bats Mike’s hand away again then uses it to pull him up and maneuver him into bed.

“Harvey, I need to come. I need to.”

“You’ll live.”

As soon as Mike’s head hits the pillow the tiredness that had been lingering takes over and his erection doesn’t seem quite so urgent. The lights go off but Harvey is still there, touching his hair.

“Lay with me?” Mike asks.

“No. Stop talking and go to sleep.”

Mike nods but he’s not sure Harvey is even still in the room to see. It’s quiet for awhile. He might have fallen asleep, then woken up again.

“Am I in your room?” The mattress squeaks as he turns over. That’s not right.

“No, Mike. That’s a privilege you don’t really deserve.”

Mike hums, then falls asleep.

 

At a quarter after six Harvey is long past the vicious cycle of trying and failing to sleep and has resorted to just laying in bed thinking about Mike. It's not quite light yet, and the half darkness is making him melancholy. So, he's not exactly sure what makes him call Ethan, but at that moment he needs to talk to _someone_ and there isn’t anyone else who comes to mind.

Ethan answers sleepily.

"I woke you."

There's a pause. "Harvey?"

"Yeah."

"Hey. What's up?"

"Sorry, I thought you’d be awake. You... I thought you worked early. At a coffee joint or something."

"Yeah, I do. But I start later in the morning today so I was being lazy." He chuckles. Harvey can hear the sound of an old air conditioner in the background.

"You want me to come over or something? Because I can't get off until three."

"No. That's not why..." he rubs his face and wipes the sleep from the corners of his eyes. "I don't know what I wanted. Just talk to someone about -"

"Mike?"

"Does that bother you?"

"Come on, Harvey. I wasn't ever going to be more to you than what I was, and besides, I couldn't stand that stray puppy act of his any more."

Harvey smiles.

"You haven't called me for relationship advice, have you? Because I’ll need to start charging."

Harvey closes his eyes against a glare coming in through the window as the sun peaks around one of the high rises.

"Have you ever taken Subspace?"

"What do you think?"

He hums. "What - what does it feel like? To you."

"You mean to Mike?"

Harvey says nothing.

"It feels good, really good. What can I say? If it didn't feel good then we wouldn't have a national drug crisis on our hands." Harvey can hear a shower turn on. "The hangover is nasty though."

"But why? You don't have any trouble getting Doms when you need them."

"Well, sure. I’m very popular."

Harvey laughs. “You know you're going to end up with a reputation."

"Too late.” He drops something and Harvey can hear him put down the phone while he curses and rustles around in what sounds like a bathroom cabinet. “Listen, Harvey. I'm not a good addiction counselor. It’s never gone past recreational for me."

Harvey holds his breath. "You think he needs that? You think - it’s an addiction?"

"Fuck if I know. You're the one up at o-dark-hundred obsessing over him. You tell me! But, if he hasn't ever had a Dom then I’d say it's a miracle Subspace is the only thing he's addicted to."

Harvey lays an arm over his eyes and tries not to let the emotion in the back of his throat sound through his voice.

“I’m really sorry, Harvey. It must suck, huh? Feeling like there’s something you can’t fix.”

Battle lost. Harvey gulps back a few tears. Pathetic. It’s just one fucking Sub. Why should he even care so much?

“Addictions suck. You could put him in subspace every night and there will still be a day when he withdrawals. I know people who can’t keep a Dom because of it.”

“Fuck. So what? I let him use? I told him I didn’t care when I met him, but I care now. And if I forbid it knowing full well he’s not going to be able to - ” Harvey takes a deep breath through his nose and quivers.

“I dunno. But, I guess, if it were me it’d be easier to stop if I thought my Dom wouldn’t drop kick me for relapsing.”

Harvey doesn’t say anything. He just thinks. He thinks about all the ways he wanted to put Mike over his knee and just beat the submission into him and how good it would have felt to see him sorry. Then he thinks about all the ways that would never have worked. At least not past the week. And suddenly he’s having visions of Mike lying and disappearing to get his hits with that low life friend of his.

And if Ethan’s right, and he suspects he is, nothing Harvey can say or do or even demand will change Mike if he doesn’t want to change. Wasn’t that the way addiction worked? He’d seen enough after school specials and watched enough pro-bono case junkies to know it wasn’t going to be a walk-in-the-park to keep a recovering addict as a Sub. He’d have to not give a shit one way or the other so long as he got his kicks, and that certainly wasn’t going to happen with Mike. He cared. He cared _a lot_. Maybe too much. After all, Mike never said he wanted to stick around.

“So, that’ll be a hundred and twenty.”

“What?”

“My fee. I know it’s a little steep but you can afford it.”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “And to think, you were always so easy in a scene.”

“I have to compensate in other ways.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Hey, I’ll do you one better. There’s a gala my firm is hosting in a few months. The second week of December, I think. There’ll be more rich attractive Doms then you’ll know what to do with. I can send you an invite.”

Harvey can hear the smile in Ethan’s voice when he say, “you are a prince among men, Harvey Specter. Of course I want to come! Are you kidding me? If I can’t have you, I’ll take one of your friends.”

Harvey smiles. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Yeah, no sweat.”

 

When Mike wakes up his head is killing him. No really, it’s going to explode from the inside out. He carefully cracks one eye and looks around. The light in the room is weird. Dark, but not dark enough to be night. He carefully rolls over to look at the clock.

“Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Ten-thirty! He flies out of bed, holding the side of his head with one hand. This is a migraine. Fuck. He hasn’t had one in months. He rips off his pajama pants and tries to keep his eyes open enough to sift through his underwear drawer. He barely has a pair of briefs on when he notices that the curtains are closed and his front door is open. That’s weird.

Then it hits him. All the memories of the day and night before come flooding back like a replay of some half-forgotten movie. The sights and sounds and revelations are disorienting to say the least and it all makes him want to cry. It really does.

“Fuuuuck.” Mike drops his hand from the drawer handle and closes his eyes against the minimal light, suddenly happy that Harvey had the foresight to draw the curtains. Then he starts going over and over all the shit he’d done wrong. As he thinks about Harvey’s weird response all Mike can do is conclude that it’s over.

He thinks about going out into the apartment and calling Harvey’s cell from the landline. If this thing between them, whatever it is, is now over than he’d rather hear it over the phone where he doesn’t have to pretend to hold it together.

Mike walks over to the bed and slides down, missing the mattress altogether. He sits on the floor with his head resting back against the mussed sheets, covers his eyes, and sniffs back tears.

He’s in pain, he’s having the worst sub-drop in memory, and he’s pretty sure he just lost the most promising thing in his life thus far. And to make it all worse, he’s alone.

“Mike?”

He looks up through his fog of tears, just barely seeing Harvey standing in the doorway. He sniffs and wipes at his face frantically. Shit, he did not want Harvey to see him like this. Not ever.

“You should be at the office.”

“So should you. I had Donna send an email to Louis from you, saying you’re home sick.” 

“I’m not sick.”

“You are in my book.”

Mike climbs up off the floor and tries to look around the dark room for some pants.

“What about you? You’re sick too?”

“No. But I can get away with coming in late once in awhile. I’m a partner.”

“Right.”

Mike finds a pair of stiff not-so-clean jeans and shoves his legs in. Suddenly Harvey is right behind him. He turns him around and lets him lean back against the wall while he zips up and buttons the jeans. He opens all of Mike’s drawers until he finds a shirt, shakes it out and holds it up to slip over Mike’s head.

“You’re not my mommy. You don’t have to dress me.”

“Shut up and put the fucking shirt on. My sympathy for you today is hanging by a thread.”

Mike gulps and pushes his arms through shakily. Harvey pulls it down over his waist and smooths out the wrinkles against his belly. After a minute he just lets his hand rest there and refuses to look Mike in the eyes. The silence and Harvey’s proximity makes him choke up, and in the state he’s in now there’s very little hope of holding back another batch of tears.

“Are you done with me now?”

Harvey looks up at him.

“Is that what this is?” Mike asks. “A sorry, we tried, but you fucked up, thing?”

Harvey removes his hand and takes one step back. “No, Mike. I’m not done with you. Unless you want to be, that is.” Harvey’s expression is so tired it kind of scares him.

Mike shakes his head, the desperation in his eyes revealing his eagerness to stay. 

“I’m really sorry.”

Harvey nods solemnly.

“Are you - are you going to punish me?”

“No. But I am going to do something that will feel a lot like a punishment.”

Mike bites his lip, wanting so badly to reach across and grab Harvey. Force him to touch him again or even just look him in the eye.

“What?”

“I want you to have some space from me. We began this with a lot more emotion than most relationships. And now it feels wrong. Too fast, too charged. You don’t know what it is you want.”

“I do too, know! I told you what I wanted. I want _you_. That was hard for me to admit, Harvey.”

“I know it was, and I’m honored.” He’s wringing one hand inside his pocket with more discomfort and nervous energy than Mike has seen on his usually self-assured Dom. “But you don’t know what you’re willing to sacrifice. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to really understand what you need from me if you’re distracted with,” he pauses, “the physical and emotional pleasures of having someone look after you for the first time in your life. So, we need a break. For your sake and mine.”

Mike’s heart clenches. “For how long?”

“That depends on you.”

“What... what do you want me to do?”

Harvey’s jaw muscles are working hard as if he’s grinding them. “Prove to me that you’re worth it.” He looks finally into his eyes and the emotion there is more intense than Mike expected. It makes him want to back away, but he can’t. “I want to be your Dom, but I won’t share you.”

Mike swallows. “This is about the Subspace?”

“Yes, Mike. This is definitely about the Subspace. How do you think it makes me feel to know that you’d rather use than let me take care of you?”

“I wouldn’t _rather_ have chosen the Subsp -”

“Don’t you dare say that. You made your choice last night and you can’t take it back now.”

“Yeah, okay. I screwed up! I know I did, but it’s just... I was upset and you weren’t there. I knew it was a bad decision, but I was angry and afraid of going home alone.”

When Harvey takes another big step back Mike is suddenly struck by the differences in the two of them. It’s easy to feel like an equal when they’re in the office where Mike pretends to be the big bad Dom lawyer. But right here, in Mike’s little studio, he feels terribly small and vulnerable before Harvey’s natural dominance.

“I was there, Mike. I was at a meeting three blocks away, not Egypt. I want to be here for you whenever I can, but if you think it’s my job to cater to your every whim and emotion, and on your schedule, then you have some things to sort out. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“Okay, fine. I have a lot to learn. You knew that.”

“Well, this is your chance.”

“How can I learn anything without you?”

Harvey sighs. “I’m not going anywhere, Mike. I’ll always be available to you. We live in the same apartment. We work in the same office. Do you see my point? Why are you so determined that I’m going to abandon you when you need me? I won’t. I promise.”

Mike steps forward, expecting to be gathered up in his embrace but Harvey holds him off. “Physical distance is paramount.”

Mike starts to tear up again. “This is fucked up, Harvey. I don’t want to do this. Can’t you just take it out on my ass and then we can forget about yesterday? It was a stupid mistake.”

Harvey shakes his head and, taking mercy on Mike’s shakes, he leans in and kisses him softly on the corner of his lips. “Take something for that headache. You’re not going to feel better until you do. Sleep some more and we’ll talk again tonight.”

Mike waits until Harvey has gathered up his briefcase, finished washing something in the kitchen and left, before he breaks down and cries like he hasn’t since his parent’s died.

 

That night Mike hasn’t really thought of anything that seems good enough to convince Harvey to forget about this whole dumb idea. But he can't stand the quiet of his room anymore so he wanders out to find Harvey eating a plate of Chinese at the kitchen bar while looking over files from the office.

“Want some?”

Mike nods and slides into the next stool, careful not to touch Harvey, just like he would have done before they’d started together. He dumps out some cashew chicken and steamed dumplings onto a plate.

They eat in silence for awhile and then Harvey takes both plates to the sink. Mike watches, jealous of how clean and polished and put together he looks. Mike feels like he hasn’t showered in days and his clothes are some of the worst he has - and that’s saying something.

“Harvey, if you have more to say can it be fast? Because I don’t know if I have the energy for more bad news.”

“It’s not bad news. I just want to propose a contract.”

“We already did that.”

“No, Mike. That was just your boundaries check-list.”

“Oh. So what’s the difference?” He tries to look like he cares, but right now he really doesn’t.

“It’s a contract between a Dom and a Sub that can include any number or variety of agreements that will influence their relationship.”

“Harvey, I don’t have the energy for that now. I just - can’t.” Mike is looking down at the counter and holding his still throbbing head in one hand.

“Pay attention, Mike. I refuse to be disrespected under this or any circumstance, understood?” Mike looks up guiltily, nods, and tries to look attentive.

“Every evening I will tell you one thing I want to propose for our relationship, and you will do the same. When we’re both happy, then we’ll draft it up and sign.”

“What, like an _actual_ legal contract? Isn’t that a little formal?”

“No. It’s customary and responsible.”

Mike shrugs. “Okay, fine. Will we be cool once the contract thing is signed?”

“No. Not necessarily.”

Mike sighs as he gets up off his stool. “I’m going back to bed. See you at work tomorrow, okay?”

Harvey nods, then continues on with his weird new cleaning the kitchen habit that Mike suspects is compensating for other things he’d rather be doing with his hands. That at least, makes him smile.


	12. Chapter 12

Harvey and Mike work together the next day without incident. It’s almost like nothing at all had happened, and Mike finds it easy, at least for now, to forget about their personal problems and concentrate on the complicated ins and outs of being a fake Dom and Pearson Hardman associate. If he’s willfully avoiding coming up with a solution to Harvey’s distrust in him, then that’s his prerogative. It’s not like he can’t manage being alone for awhile. He always was before, and besides, the thing between him and Harvey was only, like, one weekend. He won’t miss it that much. Right?

That evening as he's just about to put down his book and go to bed he remembers the contract agreement they'd made. He sits on the edge of his bed and thinks. The first thing that comes to mind seems obvious, but Mike still doesn't quite get how this whole thing is supposed to work, so, he goes with it.

Harvey turns off the TV and looks at him.

“I want you to let me start touching you. After.”

Harvey smiles, and nods.

“I want you to call me sir while we’re scening.”

Mike rolls his eyes, but upon noticing that Harvey isn’t at all amused, he clears his throat and nods. “Agreed.”

“Agreed.”

The rest of the week and weekend go pretty much the same. Mike refuses to think about what he has to _prove_ as they continue verbally drafting their contract. Harvey tells him that he’s keeping a hard copy on his personal laptop that Mike can look at any time.

 

 

“I want you to promise not to gossip about me at the office with the other Doms.”

"Why would I do that? They can never know you’re a Sub, much less our technically illegal office relationship."

"Well, even without naming me. The shit they say about their Subs is just, well... mean and personal and a flat out invasion of trust."

"It's also an age old law office pasttime, but you're right, it can go too far. I'll agree to that, but, I can't agree not to talk to Donna."

"But -"

"I'll still respect our privacy."

"Okay, fine."

“I want you to stop eating so much crap everyday. Five servings of fruits and vegetables daily.”

“Seriously? That can’t be a thing.”

“Yes it can. Your health is my concern and I’m tired of seeing you live off pizza and street-side hot dogs.”

“It’s not like you don’t get take out all the time too.”

“Fair. I’ll agree to the same rule and I’ll start cooking dinner twice a week. You can do the same.”

“What?! That’s not fair, I hate cooking!”

“Don’t be melodramatic. You’re not a college student anymore, you have to learn to make your own meals.”

“Fine.”

“Say you agree.”

“I agree.”

 

“I want you to let me count healthy ready-meals as part of my weekly cooking, thing.”

“Mike - you’re being petty.”

“Dude, take it or leave it.”

“You’re a pain in the ass. Okay, deal.”

“So. What’s yours?”

“I want you to sleep in my room with me. Permanently.”

“Really? Starting now?”

“No.”

“But what if we’re pissed at each other over something?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be our room. So long as we’re in a relationship we’ll have equal right to the space. And besides, I don’t want you to think you're allowed to close a door on me if we’re fighting.”

“Yeah, okay. I like that one. Agreed.”

 

“I want you to promise to leave office emotions at the office. I can’t work well with you if I have to worry about offending my Sub instead of my associate.”

"Is this because of today?"

"You were being impossible. I know you're still dealing with this change, but you have to keep your frustrations at home. Your responsibilities as my associate are paramount during office hours."

“Okay, well, I want you to promise I can eat dessert and stuff if I’ve fulfilled the other five a day rule.”

“Mike!”

“What?”

“That’s your last stipulation for food. I mean it, this is getting ridiculous.”

“Okay, okay, agreed.”

“Thank you.”

“Harvey, you have to agree to my desert term.”

“Oh my god. You’re a child. Agreed.”

 

“I want to know how you’re going to punish me before you do it.”

“Have you been thinking about that a lot?”

“Yeah.”

“Does the idea of punishment scare you?”

“A little.”

“Why? You think it’ll hurt.”

“I don’t know, I guess. I just want to know what to expect.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t promise that.”

“Why?”

“There are a lot of reasons. Discipline is a fragile business. It’s true, sometimes I will tell you as a deterrent to further misbehavior, but when it comes right down to it I can’t always know how a punishment is going to progress. I also think it’s a rule that keeps you from learning to submit.”

“Is this negotiable?”

“No. Punishments are my job. I would hope that you trust me enough to make good decisions in that regard.”

“I do. I’m just... nervous, I guess.”

“I would never do anything you couldn’t handle.”

“Okay. And what about knowing, like, what I could get punished for?”

“After the contract is finished I’ll decide what gets three strikes and what warrants an automatic punishment. That’s how you’ll know.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“I’ve been wanting to bring this up. I’m glad you came to talk to me.”

“Harvey?”

“Yes.”

“Would you still punish me, even while we’re on this break?”

“Perhaps.”

 

“I want you to agree that you can’t make touch deprivation a punishment.”

“Mike... I thought we talked about -”

“I know, but just agree to this one thing. Please.”

“I won’t agree to change how we’re handling this break. That’s non negotiable.”

“I know, okay. I know. But I don’t want to go through this again. I can’t handle it. Please, Harvey.”

“I agree. No touch deprivation as punishment.”

“Thank you.”

“Will it help if I let you kneel at my feet from now on? You can put your head against my knee if you keep your hands to yourself.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“I want you to always tell me when you need something bad enough that we have to break a rule. Even if I have to say no, I want to know.”

“Yes, sir. I agree.”

“That wasn’t supposed to be part of the contract, but, maybe it should be. I worry sometimes that you think -”

“Can we take a rest from the whole contract thing for a few days? I’m getting really exhausted.”

“Yes. A few days.”

“Thanks.”

 

 

More than two weeks pass before Mike decides that something has to give. It was easy some days, especially when Harvey was warm and engaging and treated him with just enough distance that Mike felt like a lover who had a cold or something. And then there were days when he was angry and on edge and would avoid Mike like it wasn't a cold but the plague. Those days made the hiatus miserable. Now it's been three whole days of Harvey making excuses not to see him at work, or at the apartment, even though Mike's been extraordinarily sweet and accommodating of his weird moods. After sitting home alone for another evening while Harvey works late, has a dinner meeting, needs to visit a pro-bono widow or needs to go to his monthly car club event, Mike is ready to kick a hole in the wall. And tonight is going to be worse.

Harvey will be gone all night. The new client based out of Boston wants to meet with Jessica and Harvey (but not Mike, of course), closer to home. So, Harvey decides to grab a hotel so he can hobnob late into the night, drink, be merry, and then return Sunday afternoon.

Mike pretends he doesn't notice that Harvey is stressing over it.

"So, what are you going to do?” He asks. “See your grandmother, or Trevor?"

"Grammy might like some company, but I think she's so comfortable in her new home that she doesn't even miss me. They don't just have cable, they have this old movie database that would put Netflix to shame."

"Okay." Harvey looks over at Mike lingering in the doorway as he slings his garment bag over one shoulder. "You'll be good?"

"Yeah. I'm a big boy, Harvey."

Mike ends up visiting his Gram for only an hour or two as the home has a party planned that night, and Mike suspects he might cramp her style. She has her eye on the Dom in the room down the hall. So he ends up alone again in the apartment, but this time without the expectation of at least seeing Harvey for a few minutes to exchange their nightly contract terms before bed.

Mike lays on his own bed until a little after midnight trying to distract himself with late night talk shows. But that new up-and-coming Sub actress that all the Doms are drooling over is on and it makes Mike pissed for no reason. He finally gets up and wanders around the apartment until he ends up in Harvey's room.

It's not like Harvey would have any reason to know if Mike slept in his bed. He won't be home until tomorrow afternoon and Mike took care of his grandmother long enough to know how to make up a clean bed. He uses Harvey's shower and a little bit of his expensive oatmeal soap just to get the smell on his skin, then crawls in naked under the sheets. Even without Harvey here, it's better than feeling alone. The comfort and smell and sensory memories of Harvey touching him put Mike to sleep in no time.

The next morning he wakes up to the sound of someone calling his name from across the apartment. He jumps out of bed, tosses the sheets up over the mattress, his heart thundering in his chest. He's looking around with his ass in the air for something to put on when Harvey walks in.

"Mike?"

Mike turns around with a hand over his eyes. "Hey."

"What's wrong with your bed?"

"Nothing. I just - I wanted - "

"Ah."

"Sorry. I didn't expect you back so early."

"It's okay." Mike drops his hand and blushes at the way Harvey is staring at his naked cock. "We did agree that this would be our bed."

Mike grabs his clothes from the bathroom then disappears into his own room to avoid Harvey until the embarrassment of being caught sniffing the pillows like some teenager in a rom-com passes.

 

 

A couple of nights later Mike decides that it's time to get his Dom back.

He sifts through all of his crap until he's pretty sure he's dug out every last joint of Subspace, then he puts them in his favorite tin and goes to find Harvey. He’s working on his personal computer when Mike nervously sets the tin down on the edge of the desk. Harvey eyes it, knowing full well what's inside, and then looks up at Mike with expectation.

"I want to promise you that I won't take Subspace anymore."

Harvey rolls his chair over and pops open the tin. "This is all of it?"

"Yeah, I think so. I looked everywhere."

Mike waits patiently while Harvey counts them, as if that matters, shuts the tin, and sits back.

"I want you to promise that you'll never go anywhere Subspace is being used."

Mike thinks about this. If he were to promise something like that it wouldn't necessarily be difficult so much as awkward in his relationship with Trevor. Trevor, and Jenny too, use more than he ever has or ever will and they aren't going to understand why he not only doesn't want to smoke anymore, but why he won't even hang around when they are - which is always.

"That's a non-negotiable for me, Mike. And I can tell you now that it won't be a three strike rule."

"Okay, fine. I can make that work."

"You have to promise me."

"I promise."

"Good. Is there something else that you'd like to ask of me? For the contract?"

"I can't think of anything right now."

"Okay. Let me know if you do."

Harvey takes the tin and slides it into his desk drawer before turning around to return to work.

"Wait. Doesn't this mean we're cool now?"

Harvey turns back. "Cool?"

Mike's nerves are shot and he hasn't been in subspace in almost a month, and now Harvey has his entire tin of Subspace where he can't ever get to it again without willfully breaking, like, three of the rules they've agreed upon. He thought this would end it. He really did.

"I can't handle this anymore, Harvey! What do you want from me? I've agreed to everything you've asked. I gave up the Subspace just like you wanted. What more is there?"

"I know you have, and I'm very proud of you. You've done so well. Really."

"Then what?!"

Harvey has lost some of his calm when he answers - "I don't want you to just appease me, Mike. I want you to want to be healthy."

"Healthy? Is this about the food thing again?"

"No, of course not. Christ."

Mike thinks. "Subspace doesn't have long term health effects, and besides, I just told you - I'm over it."

"We both know that's not true. Subspace fries your nerves and is highly addictive. If nothing else, the risks of having an addict's lifestyle are harmful enough."

"An addict? You think I'm an addict?" Mike is burning up with anger that makes him want to hit something. Or be hit by something, he can't decide which.

Harvey rubs his face. "I'm worried about you, Mike. When I hired you I didn't think I'd care what some random Sub did to their body, but you're not a random Sub anymore. I’m willing to work hard for you but you have to let me be what you need."

"I'm not an addict. You don't know anything about me. Is that what this whole thing has been about? You trying to manipulate me into coming to some personal revelation? Trevor is an addict. He smokes every day. I smoke when I can't handle the way I feel for another second and the drugs are the only out I have. You wouldn't even begin to know what that feels like."

"Oh really? You think Doms don't go through withdrawals? You don't think Doms have pain when they've been alone too long? Just because we hide it better doesn't mean we don't feel like shit when our Subs are away or sick or unhappy... or just, nonexistent. You think it hasn't hurt me to have you right here and not be able to help you?"

"You can do whatever the fuck you want. I'm ready and willing. You're the one who's playing this dumb ass game with me. One of these days I'm going to crack and Trevor is seriously going to be the only person who can help me because my Dom won't touch me."

"Don't you dare go to Trevor for more of that shit."

"I wouldn't have to if you bothered to give me what I need."

"I wouldn't let you get that far."

"It's already too far, Harvey!"

"It's not."

"Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" Harvey gets up from his chair and in two strides is so close that Mike has to back up to get away from the scary dominant presence that's screaming _stop now or the consequences are going to hurt_. But then, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

"I said, fuck you." He holds his ground despite the fury building up in Harvey's eyes. "I think you just have a wounded pride. I chose the drugs over you one time and you can't handle knowing that your Subs can get what they need without crawling around begging for you. That's what this is about."

"Say one more word to me and I will spank you until it bruises. You wanted a warning? Here it is."

Mike's hands are hurting where they're clenched up into fists at his sides. "You're all talk, but you never actually do anything about your threats."

Harvey lurches forward just as Mike turns and starts escaping in the direction of his bedroom. He went too far, obviously. And he did it on purpose. On some level he even wants the consequences. But at the moment, running away from something furious and hell bent on hurting you seems like the only option. He's completely run out of the little stamina he has to stand up to Harvey.

Half way across the living room Harvey grabs Mike by the arm and spins him around. Mike tries to pull away but it's hopeless. Harvey is already trying to get at the button in his jeans with his free hand when Mike pauses for breath. He struggles again for good measure but then gives up, realizing that whatever's coming is coming. As soon as he relaxes Harvey swings him around and over his lap as he sits on the edge of the couch arm. Mike feels his jeans slipping down over his ass as he's being tipped forward so that his head hangs down low toward the ground - the blood all flooding up so he feels disoriented. The sensation of air as his jeans are yanked aggressively down to his knees is so much less pleasurable than he'd imagined. What's even worse is how Harvey pulls down his boxers in one violent tear that makes the elastic rip and the flesh of his ass tingle in nervous anticipation and embarrassment. He doesn't even hesitate in giving Mike his first hard strike. There's no preparation, no encouragement, no petting, nothing. Mike is so startled that he reaches behind him to guard himself with his hands.

"Don't." Harvey gathers up his wrists roughly and pins them to the small of his back before continuing with even sure strokes that push Mike up against his knees and make him rock with each strike like some imitation of fucking. Mike keens. He thought it would feel good but it doesn't. It just hurts.

After at least a dozen fast repetitive slaps Mike struggles and shakes his head and begs "stop stop stop, okay. I'm sorry I'm sorry."

"Shut up and take it. You're done when I say you're done."

Mike inhales sharply and bites his lip hard as the next strike comes hard and fast and in just the same spot as before so that it not only stings, it burns like fire. Their safe-word pops into his head like a flashcard. He can see it there. It would be easy to say and then he knows this would all be over, but something holds him back. He wants Harvey to be proud of him. He wants to earn his favor back and if this is going to do it, then fine.

He waits for five more, and then eight, and after another dozen he gives up resisting. He relaxes his arms and stills his muscles from fighting off something that wasn't going to be fought off and just goes limp under Harvey’s hand.. The strikes were starting to make him go numb anyway. Mike is floating around in headspace like he's drunk on it when he slides off Harvey's lap and hits his knees, realizing hazily that it's stopped. Harvey has fallen back onto the couch and is panting like he ran a marathon. He still has one of Mike's wrists held loosely between his fingers. Mike tries to sit on his heels but it hurts so much he groans high-pitched and whimpers. So, instead he holds himself up uncomfortably and lets his face rest against Harvey's thigh.

After a couple of minutes Harvey seems to get his breath, reaches down for Mike, and hauls him up. Harvey tries to keep him on his feet, which is a difficult task, while helping him out of his jeans, shoes and boxers all bundled up around his ankles in a wad. When he's finally rid of them Harvey sits back against the couch and lets Mike collapse into his lap. With the wisdom of experience he slides his forearms under the back of Mike's thighs so he doesn't have to touch his skin to the coarseness of Harvey's pants, nor the sharpness of his knees.

Mike leans his forehead into Harvey's neck and finishes catching his breath, enjoying as well as he can the contact he'd missed so much. Somewhere in his muddy train of thought he realizes that he's so deep in subspace it surprises him. He feels calm and settled and really really good, like he's doped up on painkillers and soaring on more endorphins than should be possible. Even the pain in his ass is forgettable unless he really thinks about it. Or maybe it's just that the pain is what caused the pleasure cloud and that’s why it’s become too hard to distinguish between the two. He can't tell.

He realizes that nothing he's ever done, had or experienced compares. Not the drugs nor even sex with Harvey, although that too was superior. It's the pain that did it and that would scare and confuse him if he weren't too exhausted to care.

Slowly Harvey's breath evens out and the two of them sit motionless, content to be in each other arms for the first time in way too long.

Harvey shifts and something brushes against Mike's ass, making him hiss.

"I totally deserved that."

"Yes. You did."

Mike buries his face further into the warmth of Harvey's neck. He releases his arms that had been folded up against his chest, keeping them from fully touching, and slips them around Harvey's waist. Harvey hums and turns to place his lips softly on Mike's ear.

"But you were so good for me."

Mike shakes his head. "I _so_ wasn't." He sounds weak and teary eyed. "I didn't mean any of that shit I said."

"You meant some of it. Sometimes when emotions are high the truth -"

Mike shakes his head. "I just wanted to get a rise out of you. I swear. You do take good care of me."

"I'm not perfect, Mike. And I'm not deluded enough to think that I don't still have things to learn."

Mike's tired of talking so he slips his face out of it's warm fold and goes for Harvey's lips. He's still at first, his lips motionless under Mike's encouraging caresses, but eventually, once Mike starts groaning in frustration and licking the stubborn seam of his lips, he relents and takes charge, plundering Mike's mouth with deep penetrating kisses that make Mike feel owned.

He groans and slides his hand from Harvey's side and into the waist of his pants, determined finally I make his Dom hard for him.

"No." Harvey breaks away and looks at Mike in the eyes, his command lingering there between them. Mike removes his hand.

"This is an exception, not the end of our break."

"But -"

"Don't argue with me."

In any other state he would have complained and whined and resisted, but right now whatever Harvey says seems right. So, he nods and puts his hands up high on Harvey’s waist again.

"Yes, sir."

Harvey smiles. "You're such a good boy. I knew it was in there somewhere."

They sit together, with Mike in Harvey's lap, for a long time. Occasionally Harvey places soft kisses on whatever patch of skin he can reach. Mike does the same until he starts to fall asleep.

"You're flying, aren't you?"

"Uhmmhmm."

"My arms are going to go numb permanently if you sit on them any longer. Let's go to bed."

"Together?" He mumbles.

"Just this once."

Mike is helped off Harvey's lap but he finds his legs to be completely uncooperative. Before he knows what's going on Harvey has picked him up off the floor and is carrying him into the bedroom.

"Seriously?"

"Complain and I'll drop you and let you fall on your ass."

Mike laughs all the way down the hall and continues after Harvey has deposited him into the bed with a smile, then gone off to brush his teeth or whatever else he does in his anal retentive nightly routine. Mike laughs himself to sleep and wakes up to find that Harvey has taken him out of his shirt and put him on his side under the sheets. He has his arms around him and one hand resting feather soft against a hot ass cheek, as if protecting it.

He shifts and Harvey kisses him.

"Goodnight."

"Night."


	13. Chapter 13

After the spanking things fall into a comfortable domestic rhythm that Mike had never expected. Harvey, although he maintains his hands-off rule, is increasingly affectionate and desirous of his company. If Mike doesn’t come out to sit with him in the evenings, Harvey starts knocking on Mike’s door and is happy to stay with him regardless of what he’s doing. Even when Mike is purposefully trying to get some quiet Harvey seems to know when to shut up. He also knows when to offer his company or knee to lean on while Mike reads, thinks, or on a couple marvelous evenings, just falls asleep.

After work Harvey sometimes takes him out to casual dinners and on the weekends they try to find things going on in the city. However, it’s hard to ignore Harvey’s frustration when they discuss the things they can’t risk doing together. They find that there are certain behaviors, proximities, even looks of affection or pleasure that must be repressed when they aren’t absolutely sure they won’t be seen by a client or someone from the office. Considering that New York always proves to be an alarmingly small world, that’s just about always.

They decide to start right away on their new cooking rule so that Mike can, “get used to the idea and stop bitching”. Even though cooking twice a week sounded tedious to him before, after a month it becomes normal and he looks forward to it more than he would ever let on.

When Harvey cooks Mike can’t help but feel fuzzy inside at how Harvey is learning what his favorite things are, and what things just gross him out - like mushrooms and pickles. And sometimes in the middle of the work day he’ll text Mike asking him questions - _do you eat shellfish? - spicy or mild? - you better love this cheese I just bought, it cost a fortune._

Times like this confirm what Mike suspected, that this rule is just one more way for them to keep each other in mind and their needs considered beyond the bedroom. 

Granted, when Mike cooks there is much less artistry but Harvey hasn’t complained once. He even complimented Mike on adding fresh zucchini to canned spaghetti sauce. It was pretty good.

At work things are busy. Really busy. It’s become so natural that Mike has practically forgotten that he is keeping up a facade in the office that he can shed at home. He collects himself before every work day, especially when the subspace withdrawals start getting really bad nearly three weeks after Harvey last touched him - apart from the occasional stroke to the hair. But the concerning thing is that Mike can’t tell if it’s the drugs or the lack of headspace that’s causing him to shake in the evenings, feel nauseous in the mornings, and be just plain nasty to the other associates in the afternoons. It’s only been really bad the past few days or so and Harvey’s noticed. He insists on sticking around while Mike falls asleep in his own bed, and regardless of Mike’s dirty looks, he’s been pacing through the cubicles again.

Even when Mike gets into one of those moods where all he can think is - _this is all your fault, you fucker_ \- Harvey is generous enough to let his bad attitude slide until it’s absolutely necessary for him to remind Mike that when the contract is drawn up, disrespect and snark will be a three-strike rule. And the way his jaw tightens up as it did the night Harvey finally put Mike over his knee is enough to make him shut up. He just wishes it didn’t also make him so hard.

And that’s what brings Mike to propose another contract term a full fifteen days after they both gave up trying to think of things and agreed to just come to each other if something came to mind.

Harvey is sitting beside him on Mike’s rather thread-worn couch with his bare feet propped up and a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. If Mike wanted to kneel on the floor beside him, Harvey would let him, but he just stays where his is, trying not to let himself sound as awkward as he feels.

“I want to propose something. Well, I want to ask you something.”

Harvey looks to him over the edge of his book after a few beats and waits wordlessly for him to continue.

“That thing you did. The, uhm, punishment?”

Harvey blinks a few times and Mike thinks if he were capable of blushing, he would.

“Yes?”

“That’s one of those things that you can do to me so it feels good, right?”

Harvey’s lip twitches up. “I can make anything feel good. Or hurt. A pleasurable spanking should be a little of both. Why?” He looks down at Mike’s crotch. “Did your punishment turn you on?”

He shakes his head, knowing that even if Harvey can’t blush, _his_ cheeks are definitely red hot. “No. Not really. Well, kind of, but maybe that was just because you were touching me, and - " he swallows back hot embarrassment. "Mostly it just hurt," he concludes.

“Good. It was supposed to.”

He nods. “But, if your intention had been to make it feel good instead? Like, if I wanted you to do that again, but without, I mean -”

“You want to propose that I sometimes spank you, for pleasure?”

“Yes.”

“I would have anyway. But, tell me why you want it in the contract?”

Mike blushes even hotter. He’s considering the possibility that this conversation be labeled the most awkward of his life, when Harvey reaches over to grabs his hand for encouragement.

“That night. It was the quickest and, best, subspace I’ve ever had, and I just thought...”

Harvey smiles broadly and sets his book down. “I’m glad you told me. I suspected as much, but I haven’t had the opportunity to test my theories. I’ll put it in the contract.”

Harvey stands to go to his own bedroom. As he walks by he leans down and gently kisses Mike’s head.

 

 

At the office Mike has finally become part of the woodwork. He's less of a novelty to the other associates who now treat him like any other Dom. Perhaps he’s earned himself a little notoriety for being a Dom who also happens to be weirdly uninterested in the prettiest Sub within a square mile, but he’ll take it. Besides, Rachel gave up on him a long time ago.

Mike shares with Harvey his theory that Donna finally got around to making her move. He’d been noticing a marked spike in Rachel’s good moods as of late.

"Don't be ridiculous."

They’re sitting in Harvey’s office with their notebooks and file folders, sometimes working and sometimes not, on the new merger they’re handling. Harvey had just returned from interviewing Kathleen, the now collared Sub of one of the CEOs in the merger. She had been having a dalliance with the other CEO, her Dom’s now partner, several years back. A fact that would be detrimental to the multi-billion dollar agreement should it ever get back to a certain Henry P. Miller with his sky-rocketing chain of internet companies and iron-clad belief in his Sub’s fidelity.

"Donna would be obnoxiously bragging if that were the case," Harvey continues.

"I'm never obnoxious."

Both men look at the intercom and then whip around to see Donna turned in her chair, staring at them with her legs crossed and a look of disdain.

Harvey stands to open the door.

"Have you installed a spy device somewhere?"

"I don't have to. You never turn your end on private."

"Well, I will now!"

Mike grins as Donna, obviously perturbed at the idea of them talking about her behind her back, follows on Harvey's heels.

"My sex life is _so_ none of your business. Either of you."

Mike bites his lip trying not laugh while Harvey fluffs up his suit and returns to his chair.

"And yet you seem to think that my sex life is _entirely_ your business."

"Yeah. And that's because you need my help with yours," she argues and then puts up a finger when Harvey tries to interject. She points the finger at Mike. "Ask him if you don't believe me."

Harvey looks to Mike.

"She's kinda right. She was responsible for pushing me in the right direction. Well, in _your_ direction."

Harvey sighs before taking a sip of coffee. "I'll let that slide as Donna interfering in your life and not mine."

She rolls her eyes and puts a hand on her hip. "You've been asked to dinner tonight. Both of you, if you want to, Mike."

Harvey taps a pen on his desk. "Who?"

"Just an informal thing with the new client. Miller and his Sub, Kathleen. They're only in New York for a few more nights."

"They asked for Mike?"

Donna grins wickedly. "If you ask me that Sub had her eye trained pretty tight on him at last week’s conference."

"What?!" Mike sits up and looks over at Harvey. "That's not true, is it?"

"I noticed, but wasn't exactly threatened."

Donna laughs and wipes at her eyes with her sleeve. "This is going to be so funny. I already wish I were there."

"Harvey, don't make me go."

"You have to."

"No! How am I supposed to keep some Sub happy enough to not threaten the merger, but unhappy enough to not piss off her Dom? No. I don't want to."

Harvey chuckles and stands up from his desk to corral both Mike and Donna out and into the hall. "You're going. If you need help, ask Donna. She flirts to garner me favors all the time and I've even had her play Sub once or twice. It's part of the job." He smiles in that douche-bag way of his, then shuts the door.

Mike, dumbfounded, turns to Donna. "This is so going to end badly."

"No it won't. I'll coach you. Let's go to lunch."

Mike nods and then meets her fifteen minutes later at the elevator bank, trying hard to pretend like he didn't notice the caress she left on Rachel's hip as they passed in the hall.

 

 

Harvey helps Mike get dressed in the new and particularly elegant suit he’d bought him a couple of weeks back. He'd also had a full tux tailored in preparation for the company gala that's now only a week and a half away. The suit was Harvey's idea as he correctly predicted there would be a day, much sooner than anticipated, when Mike would be expected to eat somewhere that had more than one fork.

Mike plays dumb about it so he can get Harvey to touch him while he’s half naked. Seriously, he'll take his thrills wherever he can get them. Harvey has finally gotten to tying his tie and is securing it to his shirt with a little pin. He once read that when Doms and Subs remain celibate too long their senses are heightened, and that definitely seems true to Mike who is light-headed at how good Harvey smells tonight.

"You'll be okay?" Harvey asks.

"Yeah, I was just whining. I can handle it. Donna and I didn’t even end up talking about anything but you."

“Hey, if I’m not allowed to do that, neither are you.”

“Donna was the exception, remember?”

He shakes his head. “You and your memory. Fine.”

Harvey smiles and lets his hands rest lightly on Mike's chest - both of their breathing a little more labored for it.

"Should we go? I think Ray is waiting outside."

Harvey nods but doesn't take his hands away. Finally, with a little grimace of determination he swoops in to capture Mike in a kiss so unexpected he grunts like someone knocked the wind out of him. Harvey urges Mike’s mouth open and explores it with sure penetrating licks. Mike barely has a chance to respond before Harvey stops and grabs the nape of Mike’s neck with one hand.

"You're mine."

Mike nods enthusiastically and leans in, desperate for another kiss, but Harvey has already stepped away and is gathering his wallet and things into a pocket.

"Come on, let's go."

They're sitting in the limo Harvey hired, driving down a busy New York street to Mr. Miller’s hotel. Mike has been letting his hand rest on the leather between them in hopes that Harvey will hold it, but to no avail. He would be more disappointed if it weren't for Harvey's obvious distraction. He's staring out the window with one fist curled up too tight on the door's armrest.

"Hey. What's going on?"

Harvey glances over. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Mike nods, puts his hand back in his lap, and stares out the opposite window until he sees the flags outside the Plaza entrance.

Harvey and Mike wait beside the car while Mr. Miller is called in from the bar by the valet. Mike stands by looking politely professional but mostly detached, just as Harvey had asked him. Kathleen, an aging but still attractive woman, smiles at him with her over-white teeth and obnoxiously jeweled collar as if the physical proof of another's claim on her would be a come on. It’s true, there is the rare Dom who will get off on trying to grab a taste of what others think is worth collaring, but they’re few and far between and nothing in Mike's composure would make her suspect that he’s one of them.

Harvey gestures them politely into the limo. Once there, Mike is glad to find that she is, at least, careful with her flirtations under the eye of her Dom.

 

 

Harvey works the merger smoothly into their conversations three times and manages, without ever once coming across as pushy, to re-secure Mr. Millers word of mouth guarantee that there will be nothing getting in the way of their agreement with Pearson Hardman.

"Even in Chicago I've heard good things about you, Harvey." His cheeks are getting a little red from all the good wine they've been drinking. He smiles and points to Mike. "But you were a surprise. You have a good associate here. Don't let him go." He sets a hand on Kathleen’s arm. "Mine has a terrific eye for reliable personalities and she likes you, very much." She blushes as he nods cordially at her.

"That's nice of you,” Mike says, refusing to participate in the age-old custom of talking about Subs like they aren’t there. She smiles radiantly at him and blinks her fake eyelashes.

"After me, of course, Mike is the best lawyer you could have working on your case." They both laugh while Mike tries to ignore Kathleen’s unrelenting glances. He’d kept her distracted all evening with mundane conversation about her sightseeing and shopping in Manhattan. What else did she want from him? What was he supposed to do, flip her over the dinner table and take her right here in front of her Dom? God, the thought alone makes him cringe.

The food is gone and the drinks are nearly empty, as is the bottle on the table. Mike is beginning to feel a little tipsy and wishes he could get Harvey alone, even if it’s just for the comfort of being quiet and unpretentious in the presence of someone who doesn’t give a shit how little bravado he really has. If he had the luxury to fantasize about the more intimate things he could do, he’d be having a field day. Powerful, slick, kick-ass-lawyer Harvey never fails to get him hard. And especially tonight when he's dressed in a suit that looks, smells and feels like the multi-thousand dollar price tag attached to it.

Mike focuses back on the conversation, realizing quickly that he missed something. Harvey’s expression is intense.

"In my day they regulated those clubs better."

Harvey is nodding.

"What do you think, Mike? You seem like the kind of young Dom who would still go out hunting."

"I'm sorry, I must have missed - "

Kathleen stands, saying with a sigh, "I think I'll go use the restroom and let you boys talk without having to worry about my delicate sensibilities.” She smiles ironically and winks at Mike, then makes her way across the restaurant in her black stilettos.

"Mr. Miller was just talking about the Underground Murders. Apparently the biopsy information was released this afternoon."

"Doped out on Subspace, all of them."

Mike's ears start buzzing. He looks at Harvey, his jaw tight.

"Really. Did they say anything else?" he inquires just to sound interested, but Mr. Miller has obviously caught onto the tenseness in his voice because he stutters - 

"Well, yes. Let’s see -” He rubs at his chin and thinks. “They confirmed this afternoon, without doubt, that they knew about the drugs beforehand. Apparently there are private pre-scene rooms, you know, with discreet security but no cameras. They say the Subs that frequented that joint were into it big time. It was one of those places where a big dose of good Subspace was plenty to get Subs to agree to just about anything. The club is closed now, but of course you two would know that. We drove by just to take a look last weekend. Grizzly looking place, and now with the yellow tape in every direction.” He shakes his head and smiles like it’s a good joke.

Mike nods, still looking at the side of Harvey's face.

"No surprise really. We've all scened with a high one at some time or another, surely. If you don't want to put any work into it then fucking them can be, you know, fun. It isn't a big surprise to me that they went along with it. I've seen a picture of that guy and he's hardly every Sub's fantasy. Christ, when I was rich and handsome I was hard pressed to organize a measly threesome, much less seven at once. No, it’s hardly surprising now, eh?"

Harvey nods solemnly but refuses to look over even once at Mike.

"I suppose you would know more about it, Harvey. You must have Subs crawling all over you." Mr. Miller cackles. "Ever had that kind of crowd?"

Mike tightens his fists under the table and tries to look more interested in his drink than the conversation.

"No, I can't say I have."

"Shame. I'm all tied down now and I can't even live vicariously through the next generation? What a shame. But you do know what I'm saying about fucking 'em high? When you just wanna pound something it’s easy as - "

"Excuse me." Mike stands up from his chair, everything spinning around him alarmingly. He can't breath and if he doesn't get outside he'll give himself away. He knows he will. "I'm sorry, Mr. Miller. I need some air."

Mr. Miller sits back in his chair, eyes narrowed, as Mike turns and dodges a waiter with a tray of desserts.

"Your associate. He's quite delicate, isn't he?"

Mike can just barely hear Harvey's answer as he hurries away. "You'll have to excuse him. He's still a bit ill from, a thing, pneumonia, or - you know what you'll have to excuse me too. I should make sure - "

Mike pushes through the door, happy to be in the thick crowd on the street instead of the stuffy pretentious restaurant. He’s determined to find somewhere to hyperventilate alone.

He's leaning against a wall around the side of the neighboring hotel when Harvey finds him. He steps too close and puts a hand on his hot cheek.

"You planned this didn't you?" Mike blurts.

"What?"

"You - I don't know, you orchestrated those things he said."

"Are you seriously accusing me of being responsible for - what? Someone else's words? The news?"

Mike puts his face in his hands and scrubs so hard his skin chafes. "This is what you wanted, though, huh? You wanted to traumatize me into submission about the drug thing."

"Christ, Mike. No, of course not." He puts a hand on Mike's arm but it's thrown off.

"You win, okay! I'm scared shitless now, just like you wanted!"

"Mike, that’s never what I wanted."

"Then what?! For fuck’s sake, what? I promised you I'd quit, and that wasn't good enough. And now I'm - now - "

"We should go. I'll make our excuses."

"I can take myself home."

"No. You wait here." Mike doesn't exactly agree but he waits anyway until Harvey comes back and puts him in a cab. It smells weird and the driver won't turn down his music no matter how much Harvey yells at him.

Once they get in the elevator Harvey tries again to pull Mike into his arms, but he's having none of it.

“So you can touch me now? You said this isn’t what you wanted, but it must be if you’re touching me again.”

“No. I’m touching you because you need it. Mike, please.”

Mike stays at the other end of the elevator with his arms crossed over himself until the doors open at their floor. He steps out and walks three paces in front of Harvey. Mike fumbles with his keys and gets the door open for both of them. Harvey busies himself with the lights while Mike stands at the mirror in the hall, tugging violently at his tie and trying not to cry.

“Here, let me.”

Mike bats Harvey away just enough to piss him off and then submits finally to his _don’t-fuck-with-me_ eyes. Harvey gets everything undone and off, but leaves Mike in his shirt and pants. He blocks Mike's escape with his body and even if they're barely touching, Mike feels smothered.

“So the break. It’s over now?”

“Yes. It’s over.”

“Not exactly the happy reunion I was hoping for.”

“Me neither.”

"So, you're going to explain to me what I finally did right? Or why you let it go so long? I'm assuming you have all the answers."

Harvey cringes. "I never claimed to have all the answers."

Mike raises his eyebrows and snorts sarcastically. "I don't get it, Harvey. You told me submitting to you would be worth it. But what's the point if even _you_ don't know why you do the shit you do?"

"Mike, please. Don't be cruel."

"I'm too tired for this. Tonight sucked and I want to be alone." He tries to push around Harvey.

"I’m not perfect. I try my best, and if I screwed this up, I’ll take responsibility.” He puts one hand on Mike’s hip and another on his arm, gently securing him to the wall. “Every Dom worries, whether they admit it or not, that their Sub is going to decide one day that they weren’t worth submitting to. I guess I was asking for it, choosing someone so smart, and - well, you know already what you want for yourself, maybe it’s a fools game to think I could show you more.”

Mike’s chest tightens up at Harvey’s words, his throat constricting in that alarming way that hints of an oncoming flood of tears. He swallows with difficulty and finally lets himself step full into Harvey’s embrace. He allows his Dom to wrap his arms around him too tightly. Even if his mind is still telling him to get away and let Harvey feel the wrath of his frustration, his body is too happy to be held again. The heady pheromones make Mike's sensory memories flood back, reminding him of all the good things that have developed between them. All the hard work and good intentions. And even if there are things that could have been better, Mike, in that moment, wants to forgive and forget. He wants his self-assured Dom back. He wants the man who takes care of him, who tries to do what's best, and who knows when to keep Mike from getting so worked up that he says hurtful shit like that.

“You do show me more," he concludes softly.

Harvey sighs, kisses Mike on the neck, and buries his face in his hair.

“I was going to end it tonight anyway.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why? I hadn’t done anything more to prove -”

“Yes, of course you had. You’ve changed so much, I don’t think you realize - I underestimated you. For too long, perhaps.”

“I said I’d stop and I will. Harvey, I never make any decision lightly. You should know that better than anyone.”

He nods and Mike lets himself be held until they’re too warm and the silence becomes awkward. It’s weird how so much space and time apart has affected the physical familiarity they’d had before.

“Go put something comfortable on.”

Mike nods and does what he’s told. He’s sitting out on the couch when Harvey returns from taking a shower. Harvey sits down and puts an arm around him, but Mike just slides down and rests his head in his Dom’s lap.

“It’s dangerous, doing Subspace. I’ve always known that. I was responsible and careful, for the most part, but you never know what can happen.” Mike tries to shove away the memory bumping up against his consciousness. He moans and covers his eyes with his arm.

“What?”

“Bad memories are so persistent.” Mike sniffs. 

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to. I don’t want to re-play it again.”

Harvey rubs at Mike’s temples with his fingers.

“I’d like to know. At least some of it. There’s so much I can’t understand about you if you keep it all bottled up. I can’t make you tell me, and I won’t, but if I had some idea, if I knew -”

Mike moans and rubs at his eyes. “Fuck, Harvey. You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“Careful.”

“Sorry.”

He sits up and looks at Harvey’s serious expression. “What that Dom did to those Subs. Well, it’s a lot like what they did to us. To Trevor and me.” Mike shrugs. “I guess that’s why I was so upset.”

Harvey rubs his hand up and down Mike’s thigh. “They drugged you?”

“Sort of. They offered some to us, but it’s not like we weren’t eager to take it. We were really young and we didn’t know what it does to you. Especially what it does to young Subs! And that you should never take it around a Dom.”

“A Dom you don’t trust.”

He smiles. “Yeah. Although, a Dom you can _really_ trust shouldn’t be letting you take it at all.”

“No.”

“That guy was such a dick-wad. I wanted to punch him in the face, like, three times tonight.”

Harvey laughs. “Yes, me too. Especially when he said that about fucking Subs who are high. Like he thought everyone does that.”

“Do they?”

“Not any Dom I know. Well, that I know well. It’s dangerous and degrading. Besides, who wants a Sub who’s too out of it to even care. It’s -”

“Rape?”

“Yes.”

Mike rest his head on Harvey’s shoulder. “I guess I’m way luckier to have found you than I realize.”

“Well... yes, that’s true.”

Mike sits up and punches him hard in the shoulder.

“Ouch! Fuck, you’re strong for a Sub.”

“You deserved it.”

Harvey rubs at the sore spot like a wussy and Mike tells him so.

Mike lays back down with his head against Harvey’s thigh, thinking how good his Dom’s solid body feels. “I was more lucky to find you,” Harvey finally whispers. “I never thought -” he swallows, “I never thought I’d find someone worth the effort.”

Mike blushes as Harvey pets the hair around his ears. “I missed you,” he says.

“I was here.”

“I know, but not like this.”

Harvey rubs his hand up and down Mike’s chest as they listen to each other breathe.

“I’m so sorry the memories of that day are trapped,” he puts his palm on Mike’s forehead, “up here.”

“There’s nothing I can do about it now except let it get in the way of my life. And the last thing I want is to be treated differently.”

“It’s my job to consider everything when it comes to you.”

“Fine. Just - I’m not made of glass, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Can we have sex now?”

Harvey grins and pulls Mike into his lap. Mike slides one leg over with a seductive smile. “Definitely.”

Harvey starts placing little exploratory kisses on Mike’s face, his cheeks, his mouth. Mike can’t help but pant in anticipation. He’s less frantic than he thought he’d be. He’s mellow, calm, and steady and it feels so good to let Harvey guide him. 

He realizes that a few months ago he wouldn’t have felt like this. Something has changed. He’s not sure what it is, but he feels like Harvey’s Sub now, and it’s so fucking good.

Harvey slips his tongue into Mike’s mouth and they let themselves just suck on each other for a long time. There’s something sweeter about Harvey’s mouth tonight. Mike spends enough time exploring at his leisure again without fearing that any second he’s going to get pushed away. Sometimes their kisses are shallow and soft and sometimes, when one or the other breaks loose, their kisses become deep and filthy. Harvey turns Mike’s head sideways with his strong palms and plunders him until Mike is pretty sure he’s not even thinking straight, that he’s just appeasing his long repressed urges. That he’s making up for all that lost time with as much of Mike’s essence as he can gather.

As Mike starts getting more worked up he thrusts gently forward but finds no friction. Harvey wraps his hands slowly around Mike’s hips and slips his hands into the back of his cotton boxers. He pushes the fabric down over his ass and caresses the flesh there, squeezing in time with Mike’s thrusting.

“I’ve haven’t been able to think about anything but your ass since that night I spanked you.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s the most fuckable thing I’ve ever seen. And then when you wanted me to do it again so it felt good. God.”

Mike groans and presses into his groping hands. “I get to touch your dick now, don’t I?”

Harvey leans his head back against the couch, open mouthed, as Mike slips his fingers into the front of his pants and rubs.

“Fuck, yes. Jack me off.”

Mike smiles as he wraps his hand around Harvey’s thick cock. The angle is perfect and after a while he scoots back a little to move Harvey’s shirt aside. He slips the elastic of his pants under his balls so he can watch the action of his hand sliding up and down the hard shaft. He leans his forehead into Harvey’s neck and moans.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve gotten off imagining this.”

“Me too.”

Harvey squeezes Mike’s ass tighter as he gets closer and closer to coming. Mike tries not to get distracted by the way the tips of his fingers slip around and pull his cheeks apart like he wants to see, but can’t.

Mike speeds up his fist until Harvey can’t do anything but grab on and ride it out with little jerks of the hips. The cum spurts up onto his stomach and then starts dripping down again while Harvey catches his breath. Curiously, Mike runs his fingers through it and without wondering if it’s allowed, he puts them in his mouth and licks.

When Mike looks up Harvey is smiling. “What happened to my shy Sub?”

“He had to go without too long. I’m sure he’s in here somewhere if you want him back.”

He laughs. “The last thing I am is a complainer.”

Mike smiles through his next kiss and then doesn’t complain when Harvey pushes him off his lap and in one smooth move is on top of him, between his wide spread legs. He presses hot open mouthed kisses to his belly and then licks a long line up his cock, from root to tip. Mike tries to keep his eyes open, he tries to train his sight on his remarkable Dom who wants to wrap his lips around him, who wants to deep-throat his cock like he can’t get enough of it.

He was already on the edge so the intense stimulation of Harvey’s head bobbing enthusiastically, of his mouth hot and tight, is almost too much

“Harvey, I can’t-”

“Come for me. Come in my mouth.” Harvey grins and swallows him again. It doesn’t take Mike more than thirty seconds to do as he’s told.


	14. Chapter 14

Mike stumbles down the hall the next morning naked and with one hand against the wall for support. He would prefer to wear his pajama pants since they never made a rule in the contract about nudity, but his head is killing him and it hurts too much to bend over and retrieve them from the floor.

Two plates wait at the kitchen counter while Harvey fries something at the stove. It makes a sizzling sound. “We could just call the breakfast service,” Mike suggests. Harvey turns around and grins. “I was expecting to spend the whole day in bed like normal people after a fight.” He plops down at the counter and takes a quick swig of black coffee, ignoring the bottle of sweetened creamer he usually prefers.

“That wasn’t a fight, it was a hiatus. Or rather, a period of contemplation and reorganiz-”

“Whatever-the-fuck. Do you have any pain killers? I think I’m out.”

Harvey frowns at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Migraine.” He pinches his nose and turns away from the window. Harvey plates two omelets and a side of bacon - Mike’s favorite - before going to grab some Advil from the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. While he’s gone Mike reaches for the extra bacon and adds it all to his plate.

“That’s not going to help. If anything it’ll give you a stomach ache.”

“It’ll make me feel better. Bacon is great medicine.” He mutters a thanks when Harvey sets the four pills in his palm. This has happened a few times now, with less severity, and Harvey knows he needs all the milligrams he’s allowed.

“Are you sure you’re not just a little hungover? You were drinking a lot last night to avoid talking to that Sub.” Harvey sits down next to him and digs into his food.

Mike knows the more probable reason why his headaches are kicking into overdrive, but he’s not about to tell Harvey the withdrawal symptoms are getting worse. At least, not while he still has them reasonably under control. Besides, once Harvey starts putting him in subspace regularly it’ll probably dissipate. He looks over again at the massive windows that Harvey never bothered to have fitted with automatic blinds like in the bedroom. “Shit, it’s bright today.”

Harvey follows his gaze and squints. “Hmmm. Would it help if I blindfolded you for a while?”

Mike snorts back a laugh. Harvey frowns.

“I was serious.”

“Really? Isn’t that a little dramatic?”

“Not unless you want it to be. Just a suggestion. I won’t make you.”

Mike finishes eating his omelet with one hand shading his eyes from the brightness that is now seriously starting to make the pain behind his eyeballs swell.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take the blindfold.”

Harvey squeezes his thigh. “Good boy. I’ll keep you entertained, I promise.”

“No sex though, I might explode.”

Harvey's version of entertainment is surprisingly simple and gloriously relaxing. After fastening on the blackout blindfold, Harvey leads him to the living room couch where Mike lays back with a pillow under his head. Mike can hear Harvey muttering to himself as he flicks through the stacks of LPs on his bookshelf. He finally settles on something smooth, mellow and with no saxophones, considering that it reminds Mike of the elevator at his Gram’s old hospital. Harvey turns the volume down low and sits at one end, resting Mike's feet in his lap.

"I thought you'd try to read to me or something."

"Do you want me to?"

"Maybe later. This is nice." With visual stimulation gone it's easy to lose focus on the pain in his head, so Mike takes the opportunity to sift around gently through his memory. Eventually he skims over the first time Harvey sucked his cock, and because he's so comfortable and safe and relaxed, he lets himself remember it in all the detail his unique memory allows. It's better than porn, really.

"Is it safe to assume that blindfolds are a new kink?" Harvey chuckles.

Mike remembers through the fog of sensation that he's not wearing anything to hide his erection. Any other day that would bother him, but that same _something_ that Mike sensed the night before, that torn down wall between them, makes it all okay. He lifts his hips off the couch to give Harvey a better look.

"Not the blindfold. Just, you." He grins.

Harvey rubs a hand up and down his thigh. Mike can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "well then do you want me to help you with it?"

"Nah. I'll save it. For later."

 

 

They spend the day listening to music, reading, being read to, discussing the cases at work, and gossiping about Pearson Hardman and company. Harvey brings Mike two more rounds of painkillers, after which Mike lets him, begrudgingly, hand feed him a bowl of rigatoni for lunch.

"This isn't sexy. At all." Mike says as he bats Harvey's hand away and wipes at his chest where a noodle had dropped and smeared sauce across his nipple. Harvey can’t help but laugh at his wrinkled up nose and look of disgust. "It would have been if you'd let me get it with my tongue."

"You can try to make the best of it, Harvey. But the fact is that you're not cut out for the whole seductive finger feeding thing."

"Yeah well, I've had many Subs who'd say differently."

Mike’s jaw clenches at the statement. “Then call them. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to come be made a mess of.”

“Come on Mike. I know you don’t feel good, but remember yourself. Don’t get snarky.”

Mike falls back against the couch and doesn’t say anything at all while Harvey cleans up the dishes. All the while Harvey deeply regrets not being able to see the emotion in his Sub’s eyes. Later Harvey suggests they try taking the blindfold off, but Mike complains of being tired and asks to be led into bed for a nap. And no, he wants to keep the blindfold on, for now. He stands up and feels his way along the couch, then turns left toward his own room.

"Wrong way," Harvey says. He grabs Mike's hand and tugs him in the opposite direction. "We share a bed now, remember?" Mike hesitates before acquiescing and letting Harvey lead him to their bed. Harvey lays beside him, Mike curled up close but with his arms wrapped protectively around himself.

The rest of the evening Mike sleeps, and into the next day. In the morning he wakes insisting that there isn’t anything at all bothering him.

 

 

Nearly a week later, after a long and particularly exhausting day at court, Harvey and Mike meet coincidentally in the lobby of their apartment building. Harvey smiles warmly at him as they stand close to each other while waiting for the elevator. Once inside Mike surprises Harvey by saying, “let’s go out clubbing. I wanna dance.”

He looks at Mike, observes his worry lined eyes and pale skin. “Is this such a good time? You look exhausted. In fact, you’ve looked exhausted for days. I think you need more sleep. I can give you a day off if you need it.”

“No, I’m fine. I want to go. I really really do. Anywhere.”

“Anywhere?”

“Well, anywhere that’s clean and safe and discreet. I just don’t want to pick. You choose and I’ll put on a pair of jeans, get drunk, and dance.”

At their floor Mike leads them both out, down the hall, and into the apartment beyond. His expression is strange, tired, care worn.

“Did something happen at the office this morning?” Harvey asks. “Is Louis being a dick again?”

Mike laughs as he fumbles with his bedroom door key. Although they’ve been sharing a room as per the contract they both signed, Mike hasn’t quite transitioned out of using the space for storage. There are things, he says, that are important to him and he doesn’t want to start using storage units. It reminds him too much of cleaning out his parent’s house after they died.

“Louis is always a dick. And come to think of it, he did spend, like, a half hour today trying to dig at me about Harvard. I think he suspects something.”

“Louis is classic for thinking he can weasel out people’s secrets. If he bothers you too much I’ll scare him off for a while. I have more _real_ dirt on Louis than he could ever hope of riddling out of you.”

Mike hums while stripping out of his clothes and leaving even his suit jacket thrown haphazardly over a chair. Harvey follows him in and starts cleaning up.

“That’s not why though. I just want to get out.” He looks over one shoulder and smiles, but the humor doesn’t quite make it up to his tired half-lidded eyes. Harvey nods, watching him with appreciation as he walks around naked looking for his favorite pair of jeans.

 

 

Harvey decides to take a cab to a club he knows of. It’s so far from the center of the city that the chance of anyone recognizing them is slim to none. Usually Mike would remark on the implied risk, but he doesn't. He just sits quietly watching the city lights pass by his windows while the other drivers swerve in and out of the lanes surrounding them.

“You know we’ll look gay together,” Mike says suddenly. He’s fingering the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“I don’t give a shit. Besides, no one is going to be looking at us.”

Mike humphs. “I hope that’s not true. We’re very attractive, or so I thought.”

“Yes. Subs everywhere can fantasize then, about the two beautiful Doms at the club, getting off with each other.”

Mike smiles and leans his head back against the seat with his eyes closed.

The club is small but known for their exceptional drinks and large accommodating backroom. They don’t have any problem getting in. The bouncers wave them past the line without issue, in hopes they’ll even out the Sub to Dom ratio. As soon as they’re in the door Harvey puts his arm around Mike, who startles, but gently eases into the embrace. The music is loud. Maybe too loud for Harvey but Mike seems elated. Harvey can feel the vibration of Mike’s moan through his body.

“Get me a drink, will you? Something strong. No, two somethings strong.”

Harvey nods, forgiving his Sub’s pushy attitude, then goes to order two beers and two scotches at the bar. Mike wrinkles his nose at the beer but takes it anyway. He downs the scotch in one go and without missing a beat starts chasing it with the bottle.

“Don’t over do it,” Harvey yells. “We have to work in the morning.”

Mike shakes his head but Harvey doesn’t know what he’s denying. “Dance with me, huh?” Mike shouts. “Right now.”

Harvey nods and they both finish their beers while heading out onto the dance floor. Mike throws his head back and moves with more abandon than Harvey has ever seen before. He situates himself right in the middle of the crowd and stretches his arms up to the ceiling as he moves, head thrown back, eyes closed, pelvis twisting. Harvey’s mouth goes dry. He licks his lips and casually adjusts his growing erection. 

Mike opens his eyes just enough to catch Harvey’s attention as he lures him in with a grin. It would take a miracle, really, to keep Harvey’s hands off his Sub at that moment. He moves in close making Mike smile broadly, seductively. He keeps moving his hips even as Harvey pulls their groins together. He slips his hands under Mike’s shirt and strokes the hot skin underneath, then runs his fingers around to his back where his beautifully curved spine dips in. Harvey chases the sweat that’s starting to pool at his waist. He moves his hands low under the belt of Mike’s jeans then down until he gets both hands around the flesh he’s been so addicted to. Mike whimpers and moans, then uses his position to get Harvey to join him in a grind. Something unbearably loud and pulsating is playing, causing the crowd to push them closer together.

Harvey holds Mike’s head in place while nosing around his jaw with little bites. Mike turns his head until Harvey’s hands are nearer his lips. He licks Harvey’s fingers and is gazing hotly at him when Harvey pulls back. His mouth is open and because Harvey needs to feel it, he places two fingers on his bottom lip. Mike closes his eyes and sucks both fingers in all the way to the knuckle. His cheek hollow around the digits, but it’s his concentration that’s most erotic. He pulls the fingers out wetly as Mike holds his lips tightly closed so Harvey can push back in again several times. Harvey growls and bites his neck hard while fucking Mike’s mouth with his fingers.

“Let’s go home. I want to get you naked,” Harvey moans right into his ear, but Mike shakes his head.

“Later. Get me another drink.”

Harvey pulls his fingers away, then puts a hand around Mike’s throat purposefully. Mike leans back, his eyes glistening. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

Mike gulps and nods. “Yes, sir.” 

Harvey can’t hear the words but the shape of them are visible on his lips. He moves his hand from Mike’s throat and up to his jaw where he holds on tight, prying his Sub’s mouth open so he can get his tongue in as deep as possible. Mike falters in his dancing and just hangs on while his mouth is plundered.

“Is this what you wanted?” Harvey asks against his ear. Mike nods. “If I get you one more drink will you be a good boy and do as I say tonight?” Mike nods enthusiastically and kisses his fingers in submission. Harvey slips away and goes to the bar where he orders two cocktails. The bartender is a tall, thin, dark skinned Sub who seems very hopeful that Harvey will notice him, gives him the drinks quickly. Harvey smiles cordially but with just enough flirtation to make the Sub feel like he was worth it. When Harvey goes back to look for Mike in the crowd, he’s nowhere to be found.

After getting bumped and tripped one too many times he sips a bit off the top of each glass and scans the floor. Finally, somewhere in the back near the bathrooms, the couches, and the back-room entrance, he finds Mike pressed up against the wall looking a bit shell shocked. As soon as Mike gets Harvey in his sight he visibly relaxes and practically pulls Harvey in by his shirt tails until they’re pressed together.

Mike snatches the drink desperately.

“What’s wrong?” Harvey asks.

“Will you stay close to me tonight?” His eyes are wide and worried.

Harvey nods. “Yes. Of course I will. What’s going on?”

Mike takes a deep breath and looks away. Harvey grabs him around the chin to lead his gaze back. “Tell me.”

Mike searches his eyes for a second before saying “I feel like I’m going to use. I thought about going to Trevor’s all the way home. I’m surprised I even made it.”

Harvey’s heart beats a little faster. He puts his hand around Mike’s shoulder, holding him tight enough to bruise. “And this helps?”

Mike nods but he doesn’t look sure. “The music helps. And the drinks,” he looks down into the clear liquor. “And you. Having your hands on me helps.”

Harvey presses in even closer as he slides his free hand around the back of his Sub’s neck. “Come into the back room with me,” he says darkly.

Mike glances to the closed door.

“Don’t worry about who’s in there. It’ll be just you and me.”

Mike doesn’t think much more about it. He swigs the last of the drink, takes Harvey’s hand, and is lead around the fringe crowd and through the door.

In the back room the noise is different. They’re playing something with a slower more sensual beat. Harvey remembered this club mostly for the exceptional quality of this particular room. He was crossing his fingers in hopes that he’d be able to lure Mike here. 

At the far end is a large main room where they can both hear the faint sounds of pleasure and the movement of dozens of bodies under blue light but Harvey points Mike toward a wall of open doorways covered in thin veils of fabric. As they pass they look in on several occupied rooms and the shapes of their occupants inside. Mike’s breath catches in his throat. Finally, near the end Harvey finds an empty stall. In the center of the room is a low black bench covered in cushioned oil cloth, and on the shelf behind is a collection of condoms, lube packets, Kleenex, and sealed bottles of water. Otherwise, the place is empty. Harvey holds Mike’s hand as he sits back on the couch. Mike looks down at him curiously, his mouth hanging open slightly and his breath coming unevenly.

He pulls Mike in between his spread legs and smiles when Mike puts both hands around Harvey’s head.

“Kneel down for me,” he says. Mike sinks down gracefully to sit on his heels. The sight reminds Harvey feverishly of that first time in his office, when Mike didn’t have any of this grace, nor any true confidence in himself. It seems so far away now.

Harvey runs his fingers along Mike’s lips and is unsurprised when they open for him.

“I want to feel this around my cock.” He wipes his thumb around Mike’s bottom lip, then in to feel the slickness of his tongue.

Mike gives his fingers all the attention he can muster until Harvey takes the hand away and runs it over his cock.

“You say you’ve wanted to taste me. Show me how much.”

Mike’s hands fumble a little with Harvey’s belt and the zip of his jeans, but he’s otherwise enthusiastic. Harvey groans as Mike pulls him out. He prefers a Sub who knows how to take it slow, to seduce him with their mouth. And maybe someday soon that’ll be Mike, but right now, in this moment, watching Mike slide his dick into his mouth like he’s starving for it is the greatest sight Harvey could imagine. He puts a hand gently on Mike’s hair and lets him explore.

He’s clumsy at times, but they both enjoy the instructions Harvey gives him in that deep husky voice.

“Careful. Guard your teeth”

“Suck on the tip. Taste how much I want you.”

“Don’t take me too far down, you’ll choke,” Harvey says with a chuckle when Mike tries to go too deep. The pained expression on his face is endearing. Harvey pushes him off gently, then takes himself in hand while Mike sits back to watch intently.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” Harvey commands. “I want to come on your face.”

Mike’s breath quickens startlingly fast and at first it looks like he’s going to protest, but Harvey grabs him by the hair and pulls his head back. Mike moans and his eyes slide shut. He nods. Harvey speeds up his hand until he’s seconds from coming. Mike’s eyes open slightly and he whimpers just as Harvey comes in long stripes over his lips and cheeks. He licks wantonly at what he can reach with his tongue. Harvey stands, pulling Mike up with one hand in his hair and the other under one arm. Mike rises from his knees weakly. Harvey briskly unbuttons Mike’s jeans and pushes them down.  

“Kick them off.”

Mike does so and then looks to the door.

“Don’t think about anything but me. Understand? Just you and me here.”

He lets out a breath and nods. Harvey runs his hands down to grab Mike’s ass, just as he’d done on the dance floor.

“You looked so fucking delicious out there,” he says. “It made me wonder who you were showing off for. Me?”

Mike nods. His eyes are bright and the tiredness of earlier is gone.

“I think you wanted those other Dom’s to see you too.”

Mike’s eyes narrow. He shakes his head. Harvey smiles with humor and nods. “No, I think that’s right. I think you’re just a filthy slut who deserves a spanking.” He lifts one hand off and brings it back again with a sharp slap. Mike yelps, and then moans. His knees weaken so that Harvey has to hold him up.

“Yeah. Do it, spank me.”

“Sir,” Harvey corrects immediately.

“Spank me, sir.” Harvey can just see the smile of satisfaction as he sits back down and brings Mike with him over his lap. He starts with two sharp slaps that leave red marks on each cheek, and then he rubs the swelling flesh gently, running his fingertips and nails over the marks teasingly. Mike moans as he rubs himself shallowly against Harvey’s thigh. He slaps him again four times in quick succession and runs a finger down between Mike’s thighs to grab and squeeze his balls.

“Can you come like this?” Harvey asks.

“Yeah. Make it hurt, please, sir.”

Harvey squeezes his handful as tight as he dares. Until Mike is screaming tensely in his throat, then he lets go and positions Mike so he’s kneeling on his hands and knees over Harvey with his groin lifted up and accessible. He takes his Sub’s cock in hand and begins stroking him quickly and rough while returning the attention of one hand as it strikes him on the ass. It only takes Mike thirty seconds before he’s coming, screaming loud enough that the whole backroom will have heard.

When Harvey lets go Mike collapses like a rag doll off the bench and onto his sore ass. He sits, barely holding himself up with one shaking arm. Harvey retrieves the tissue on the shelf behind him, then begins cleaning Mike up. Mike offers up his face with a smirk when Harvey wipes off what’s left of his cum.

“What if I’d paraded you outside like that?”

He hums. “In this state I’d probably let you.”

He wipes until it’s gone except for a drop in the corner of his lips, which Harvey licks up himself when he goes in for another long kiss.

“Do you feel better?”

Mike nods, his expression blissed out and content. “Better. It’s not gone, but better.”

Harvey nods. “You’ll always tell me, won’t you?”

“Yeah. I will now.”

Mike crawls over gratefully when Harvey opens his arms. He straddles Harvey’s lap, a position that has become a favorite for them both, even if it’s just to talk and kiss and be nearer each other.

“The cravings, they aren’t really going away anymore.” Mike says quietly. “It’s like no matter what I do they stay. Remember that migraine? I’ve been getting them almost everyday.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could have put you in subspace more.”

Mike chuckles. “More? We’d have to stop working, Harvey. Obviously it’s not enough. It helps, but only for a little while.” He’s quiet for a long time. “Do you think it’ll always be like this?”

Harvey shakes his head. “No. Everything passes. And you’re stronger than most. Besides you have me. We’ll get through it together.”

“But what if even that’s not enough?” Mike asks so weakly that Harvey’s heart breaks for him.

“I won’t leave you, if that’s what you’re asking. So long as you keep trying. So long as you don’t give in to it.”

Mike nods, kisses his Dom lightly, then lets himself be held until his knees start to ache and Harvey’s thighs go numb.  

“One more beer?” Harvey suggests. “Too late now to avoid the hangover.”

Harvey and Mike walk back through the club hand in hand. The music has gotten quieter as the night has dragged on, and the couples on the dance floor are less riotous. Now they’re more concentrated on the sensuality of their partners and the promise of what’s to come.

At the counter the bartender looks at Harvey with disappointment when he curls an arm around Mike. They order two beers that take longer than usual now that the bartender knows Harvey is off the market, at least for the night.

Mike and Harvey stand with their sides against the bar, facing each other.

“Don’t look now but there’s a Sub staring at you,” Mike says. He’s looking over Harvey’s shoulder at someone down the bar. “God, she’s gorgeous.”

Harvey just smiles and shrugs. “Mike, if she’s looking this way, she’s probably looking at you. My back isn’t all that appealing.”

He shakes his head adamantly. “No way, she doesn’t give a fuck about me.” He takes a swig of his beer. “Ah shit. She’s coming over here. She probably knew we were talking about her.”

Harvey chuckles, releases his grip on Mike’s hand under the bar, and turns around to face the mystery Sub. As soon as he makes eye contact with the brown haired woman, sauntering purposefully toward him, his heart skips a beat. He startles noticeably enough that Mike takes a step back.

“If it isn’t Harvey Specter,” she says. The two Doms she left behind watch on with narrowed eyes. She’s petite, thin, fragile, beautiful, and everything Mike imagines a Dom would want in their perfect fantasy of a Sub. Her hair is soft, wavy, and laying over one shoulder, just begging to be touched.

“Scottie. I thought you were in London.”

“I was, and now I’m not.” She smiles, looking him up and down. Harvey turns away from the attention nervously, then moves as if to put an arm around Mike before thinking better of it. “I’ve only been back this week,” she purrs. “I was hoping I’d see you around. Who’s your friend?”

Mike stutters something inaudible through the music then takes a step forward to offer a hand.

“This is Mike Ross. He’s my new associate.” Mike smiles shallowly but Scottie doesn’t bother glancing at him, even when she takes his hand gently with her fingers.

“You boys out hunting?”

Harvey makes an affirmative noise in his throat. “Yes. Long case finally wrapped up today in court, so we thought a night out was in order. Isn’t that right Mike?”

“Yeah.” His Dom defenses have already clicked into place as he follows Harvey’s lead.

“Any luck so far?” She says, taking one step closer to Harvey.

“I always have luck,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean it’s going to be with you.” He puts a hand around her shoulder and pushes her gently, but firmly away. She takes two steps back, stumbling a little in her heels. The Doms behind her stand up.

“Still angry with me, then?” Her lip curls up in a grin as she tucks a bit of hair behind one ear. Just then Mike notices that she has a ring of pale skin around her neck. The tan line of a long worn collar. “We all made our choices. It’s no reason to be bitter.”

Harvey looks over his shoulder at Mike and jerks his head toward the door.

“I won’t say it was nice to see you, Scottie, but it was a surprise. Have a good night.”

As soon as they’re outside, Harvey takes Mike’s hand and pulls him in possessively.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing. Let’s go home. I’m tired.”


	15. Chapter 15

That night Harvey asks twice if he can fuck Mike. Actually, the second time is so much like a beg that it disorients Mike into wanting to sleep in his own bed where he doesn't feel like a scrap of meat being hovered over by a dangerous tiger Dom. But instead, Mike pulls himself together as best he can and tells Harvey, several times, _no_. Besides, they're both more than a little drunk.

It's not even that Mike doesn't want to. He does. He thinks about it being good, pleasurable. Nothing at all like the first time - when he was that thirteen year old being held down and forced into. But then again, letting a drunk Harvey who isn't acting at all like his Dom would be almost as violating.

Harvey corners him in their bedroom after a long quiet ride in a taxi with a speeding driver who tried to overcharge them. Most do, when picking up couples stumbling out of a club.

"Please, Mike. _Please_. Let me. I'll make it so good for you." He nuzzles Mike and tries to hold them together with a force of strength he knows gives him the unfair, and frankly unsafe advantage. Mike pushes against his shoulder once and when Harvey doesn't let go he catches his eye, giving him the _don't underestimate me_ look. Harvey groans and releases him.

Even if Harvey were sober and there hadn't been the weird thing with Scottie, the chick who could very well be the collared Sub of Harvey's past, the thought of more sex is unappealing after being completely taken apart no more than an hour before. What he wants is to be put back together again. He wants to be held and taken care of, for his Dom to help him ride through his sub-drop. He wants to be the center of attention, even if it's most probably true that Mike is _always_ the center of attention in this relationship.

He pushes away from Harvey and goes into the bathroom where he locks himself in, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, takes some now ritual painkillers for the headache that will come, and fingers the lovely purple love bites on his collarbone and bruises on his ass. He puts on Harvey's bathrobe before walking out. Harvey is laying in bed with an arm over his eyes. He looks over.

"What, are you afraid of me now?"

"No. But you were being too grabby and I just want to get some sleep." He walks over to pull out a pair of pajamas that he hasn't had the opportunity to wear since bringing his clothes here. Harvey is usually the one in a pair of flannel pants or undershirt, while Mike is happy to be as naked as Harvey obviously prefers him to be.

"I'll sleep in my bed." Mike says.

Harvey sits up and scowls at him. "You will not."

"Then are you going tell me who that Sub at the club was, and why you practically attacked me?"

"This isn't a point of bargaining, Mike. It's in the contract. We both agreed. No shutting doors on each other."

Mike folds his arms over his chest and glares at his Dom. "Fine. But I swear to God Harvey if you try to pull something like that again, I'll go. Contract or no."

Harvey puts both his hands up in surrender, then lifts the covers. Mike turns off the lights and gets in.

"Am I allowed to hold you?" Harvey asks with exasperation.

"Yes."

They both humph like it's some great chore, but once they're in each other's arms they relax. Mike's muscles unclench and something all wound up in Harvey settles. Mike can feel it through their embrace.

"What's your issue,” Mike finally says into the darkness. “If I have to be honest then so do you."

"I don't have to do anything," he snaps. Mike flinches and pulls away but Harvey groans an apology and pulls him back in.

Harvey doesn't say anything else for so long Mike thinks he’s feigning sleep. Harvey always makes those little breathy snores when he's first drifting off, but his breathing is still quiet and even.

"Scottie used to be my Sub. I didn't expect to ever see her again.” He clears his throat. “That's all I’m going to say on the matter."

"So how does that translate to you begging to fuck me when you knew I'd say no?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking straight. I just thought having you under me would get her out of my head." He puts a hand under Mike's waist and pulls him in closer. "Never mind. I should never have gotten this drunk with a Sub, it impairs my judgment. It was my own damn fault. Go to sleep."

Mike's insides quiver unpleasantly. He'd been thinking about Harvey's previous relationships a lot lately. Harvey is never one to hide his prowess when it comes to attracting Subs. But then he always made it seem like he didn't do relationships. Mike had even started to believe that he was the first one to capture Harvey's attention for more than a few one night stands. Stupid. He should have known that Harvey, with all his years and charm and all that affection he has to give, would have Subs from his past who meant as much to him as Mike does now. If not more. Maybe a lot more.

It’s stupid and sentimental and completely fucking unrealistic, but Mike wonders if he'll grow to resent Harvey for his past. If the thought that he's not the only one won't wear away at him.

Mike doesn't say anything about his worries. He lets himself be held by his Dom and falls asleep refusing to ignite a headache by imagining the possibility that after one brief re-encounter with his past, Mike is no longer the only Sub distracting Harvey’s attention.

 

 

Harvey avoids the subject of Scottie so well for the next few days that Mike suspects he’s trying to erase the memory from both their minds. Their lives are so painfully normal - eat, work, eat, scene, sleep - and with not so much as a bicker in between despite Mike’s irritability and relentless headaches, that Mike has no choice but to quietly obsess over Scottie. With every warm casual smile, every home cooked meal, every evening cuddled around each other watching a sitcom before sex, Mike becomes that much more distracted by what isn’t being said.

He approaches the topic one morning several days later but Harvey just looks at him sharply and says, “I told you all you need to know. Drop it, Mike.”

At the office things have been similarly turbulent, but with none of the feigned normalcy. Everyone is preparing for the company's winter gala. It’s only a week away and the organizers, Donna and Rachel, are frantic.

Mike stands at the doorway of the associate’s break room sipping on his coffee and watching them as they fight over the phone behind Donna’s desk. If Mike weren't 99% sure they’re scening, today would be good proof against his theory. They have been bickering, jostling for leadership, and just plain fighting. That morning Mike had to dodge them standing in the lobby near the elevators pointing fingers at each other and screaming about catering, as if this weren't an office where some degree of control was expected. It seems they stopped caring and even Jessica has decided to get out of their way and let them carry on so long as there are no clients in the office. In which case, she's threatened to set Harvey loose on them. She's already tried Louis, but that was hilariously unsuccessful.

Donna and Rachel had volunteered for the task of setting up the event months ago, back before Mike had even met Harvey at the hotel interview. In past years, they had done similar events on a small scale. This time it's at least three times as big and includes those ridiculously expensive raffle things for charity. The ones with everything from designer tailoring appointments (of course), to pieces of jewelry from the Elizabeth Taylor estate, to trips to Bali.

Mike couldn't afford to show his face in proper dress if Harvey hadn't already bought him that stupidly fancy tuxedo with the fabric that feels like it was sewn from fairy silk.

Mike cleans his cup and moved to the copier when Donna walks through the room, her face puckered and red. Rachel follows on her heels, stops, looks at Mike and shouts "can you believe her?" Mike jolts, looks between them, and tries to back out, but they both stop him with a hand on the chest.

"What kind of fucking nerve you have,” Rachel shouts at Donna, “to think you can push me around in the office just cause you're a Dom. Like that makes a fucking difference who does the best work." She points at Mike's face. "He _never_ pulls that shit on me."

He looks at Donna who doesn't look amused or likely to hold his secret if he decides to side with Rachel.

"Maybe Donna is just ... I mean, it's never a bad idea for someone to take the dominant... you can't compare Donna to - "

Donna grins and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Right. Don't sweat it, Mike. She's just being difficult to piss me off." She leans in and whispers, "stay out of it and let me deal with her." She winks with her back to Rachel and walks out.

Rachel stands, glaring at Mike, with a hand on her hip and her long pretty hair over one shoulder. "This is a conspiracy. A Dom conspiracy."

"Seriously, Rachel. Don't involve me in this. I have nothing to do with it and so much more on my mind I could scream." He stares at her until he gets her to drop her eyes and then goes back to copying. It doesn't do anything but irritate him when he's able to force a Sub into submission, even if it's as subtle as that. But then, with the way he’s been on edge with Harvey these past few days, some margin of control feels good.

Later that morning Mike stops by Donna’s desk. Harvey is meeting with Jessica and Louis in another office and so, unless Donna proves to be a tattle tale, Harvey probably won’t find out about this.

“Donna.”

She looks up at him briefly without ceasing her rapid fire typing. “What?”

“Can I... can I ask you a question?”

“Email me.”

“No. It’s personal.”

She sighs, lifts her fingers off the keys and looks at him with her no-time-for-your-shit eyes.

“It’s about Harvey.”

“Yeah?”

Mike worries his bottom lip and taps his fingers against the edge of her circular desk.

“Mike, if it’s a question that’s making you this nervous, I doubt I’ll be able to answer it for you.” When he doesn’t stop his fidgeting she reaches a hand out and covers his with it. He stops, pulls his hands back into his pockets and says, “Do you know who Scottie is?”

Frankly, if Mike didn’t know Donna pretty well, he’d say she didn’t flinch. But he does, and she did, with just a microscopic twitch of the eye.

“I think Harvey was involved with her when he started working here.” She says simply before returning to her work.

“And?”

“What do you mean _and_? That’s what I know. Before I became his secretary, when I was still working for another associate, I vaguely remember hearing him mention her.”

“Was she-”

“Mike. I really need to get back to work.”

“Okay, but do you think she was-”

“Mike. We’re done,” she whispers. “Talk to your Dom.”

 

 

For the first time in - well, basically since he got this job, Mike finishes his work early. He sits back in his chair and looks around at the other associates. One still has his morning cup of coffee sitting half drunk beside their elbow, and it’s 3:30. He clicks open his email and begins typing a message asking Harvey what else he needs for the day, when he suddenly has an overwhelming desire to see his Gram. He still visits once a week or so, but it’s not nearly as often as he’d averaged before starting with Pearson Hardman. For a while during his unemployment he saw her twice a week, at least. He calls her often and sends an odd letter, knowing how much she likes receiving something to lay in her drawer and revisit. But today, he’s feeling selfish. He’s all scrambled up with emotion and he needs the comfort of his Grandmother. For most of his life he’d been so opposed to his natural submissiveness that he never got the opportunity to learn from her. Now seems as good a time as any.

Mike knocks gently on her door before opening it. The new home he's paying for has mini condos as rooms. The bedrooms are separate from the living room, and there's even a little dining table by a window looking out at a rare New York tree grove. She's sitting in her chair grinning at something on the TV. It's a Cary Grant film.

She looks up at him and her eyes alight with joy. "Mike! What a surprise." He shuts the door behind him then goes to kiss her on the cheek. She pats him on the shoulder with her still strong hand as he takes a seat on the couch beside her. Even if it's not the house he grew up in, there's something about any room where his grandmother is that has a special warmth and familiarity. Although he's becoming more and more comfortable and safe in Harvey's apartment, this is a nice reprise from the tension that's been fizzing on and off for, well, for a while.

She's looking him over, the wrinkles of her face drawn together until the softness of her features are hardened. Mike hates thinking he’s worried her.

"You can't let that new job of yours take over your life. You must get some rest. Some personal time to enjoy yourself."

Mike nods, knowing it’s time to confess, but wanting to give himself just a few more minutes of happy familiarity before he gets into the deep stuff. He follows her gaze back to the television where Mr. Grant is trying to shoo a leopard from his bedroom. They both smile while Mike lays back on the couch cushions to enjoy the last few minutes of the film. When the credits roll his grandmother turns in her chair and smiles at him.

"I'm happy you came."

"I'm sorry it's been awhile," he says. She bats her hand and denies caring, or even noticing the change. But he can tell she does. Fuck, he needs to come every weekend again. Harvey won't mind, he's nearly positive.

"Hey. I wanted to talk to you about something." Mike is worrying his lip when she turns in her chair and looks at him expectantly. As a teenager, whenever Mike had something to say she was all ears. She has always been, without doubt, the most patient imaginable listener.

"I've met someone. A Dom." He lets the confession lie there in the silence but she doesn’t even flinch. She just stares at him with the beginning of a smile and waits. "He's my boss. I know that's probably stupid or whatever, but it's what happened. We've been together for almost five months. Well, 143 days, but who’s counting." He grins awkwardly to lighten the anxiety in his chest. "What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?"

"I tell you I'm with a Dom when I've been pretending to _be_ one for ten years, and you ask me that?"

"Are you happy?"

He nods. "Happier than before."

"Does he treat you well?"

“Yes. It’s not like I have much to compare him to. But, yes. He does.”

His grandmother's smile widens. Finally she has to turn away and pluck a tissue from the box on the TV tray. Mike stands up and goes to kneel down at her knee.

"Oh god, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"I'm sorry. I was just so worried about you being alone." She lays a hand on his shoulder while he lays two on her knee. She dabs at her eyes and tries to collect herself.

"Why haven't I met him?"

"Do you want to?"

"How could you ask me that? Of course I do!"

He thinks. "How about Christmas?"

She sniffs back another happy cry and nods. "Just don't even think about buying me anything."

"Grammy I'm making good money now and Harvey doesn't know how not to buy gifts. I can guarantee you there will be presents."

"Is that his name? Harvey? That's a good name."

Mike shrugs and helps collect her tissue for the trash bin. When he comes back he thinks about pulling up a chair but decides he rather liked kneeling down and looking up at her. Ever since Harvey, the position has been surprisingly calming for his nerves. "Gram, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Had grandpa ever collared someone? Before you?"

She leans her chin on her hand and says, “No. He hadn't. But times were different then. Most Doms didn't collar until their bonding." Mike nods. He knew that but it certainly doesn't make him feel any better about his own situation.

"Your Harvey collared another Sub?"

"I don't know for sure. He doesn't want to talk about it."

"And you're worried?"

"It's driving me crazy. I wish I didn't doubt him but then, I'm new to this."

"And I'm not, is that it? Are you calling me old?"

He laughs. "No, not old. Experienced."

She rolls her eyes. "High praise indeed."

Mike smiles and waits patiently for her next words.

"Let me ask you. Do you think your Harvey is the kind of Dom who would de-collar a Sub lightly?"

Mike shakes his head. No, he knows he wouldn't. "Harvey doesn't do anything lightly."

"So it would have to either be the Sub's decision, or I suppose, unresolvable behavioral issues?"

Mike thinks about this. Harvey has promised him that he wouldn't leave even if Mike relapsed on the Subspace. Proof, Mike has to admit, that Harvey is a man with a great generosity of spirit.

"I think it would have to be even more than that for Harvey to de-collar a Sub. He's extraordinarily generous, and, forgiving."

"Then there's your answer, Mike. You need only to have thought about it."

His brow knits together in confusion. "How is that an answer? So they parted on bad terms? Now she's back and who's to say he won't want to direct some of that forgiveness her way? He must have really loved her once. More than me." He chokes back a lump in his throat and looks up at his grandmother's warm face, hoping there are more answers hidden in her somewhere.

"You think your Dom still loves a Sub who broke, or forced him to break, one of the most sacred of our bonds?"

"Maybe."

"Well, even if those feelings remain, I hope for the sake of my grandson that he wouldn’t throw you aside to risk trying again at a failed relationship. I’ve known very few Doms with so little natural pride that they would do something so weak."

The last thing Mike would ever describe Harvey as is weak. But then, even the strongest have the potential to make stupid decisions when love, or even lust becomes involved. And whose to say that Mike has been good enough to hold Harvey's attention? They signed a contract together, yes. They made promises to each other in moments of desperation and passion, but does that mean that Mike has lived up to Harvey's expectations of him? Has he proved himself worth Harvey's devotion, or has he only been trouble for a Dom who could have anyone he liked?

Sometimes, Mike realizes, his own self-doubt and worry become the instigator of these fucking headaches. He closes his eyes and tries to will it away.

"I suppose you’ll have to think about this and decide," his grandmother says softly, "if you trust him or not."

"If he would just talk to me about it I’d know-"

"Perhaps the better question to ask your Dom isn't what this Sub once meant to him, but what _you_ mean to him now."

 

 

When Mike wanders into the apartment, emotionally exhausted and a little shaken, Harvey is passing by the entryway with a cup of tea. He stops, puts it down on the side table, and comes to help Mike with his things.

"You left work early."

"I wanted to see my Gram. And I was done."

He hums while taking Mike's coat from him. Mike watches him put it on a hook on the wall and when he's about to go back into the living room Mike grabs him by the hand and pulls his arms open so he can press himself unabashedly into his embrace. Harvey is stiff and startled for a second before wrapping his arms around Mike warmly and putting one hand in his hair to cradle his dull throbbing pain. He buries his nose into Harvey's chest and breathes in.

"Need me to take you down?"

Mike shakes his head. "Later."

Harvey pulls him away gently and lead them both to the couch but Mike holds on tight and looks up at him. Harvey's expression is confused but he stays put, just standing in the hallway with him in his pajamas and Mike in his full suit.

"I want to be a good Sub for you." Mike whispers.

Harvey runs a hand down his face and lays it to rest on Mike's collarbone. "You are."

"I'm not. I'm difficult and needy. I'm a recovering drug addict for fuck's sake, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing."

"I know who you are, Mike, and I chose you. Anything you need to learn is my job to teach you. We've gone over this. What's wrong?"

He drops his eyes and looks at their feet. His in shiny black shoes and Harvey's bare toes. It's a weird contrast, considering how vulnerable he feels.

"My grandmother says that I have to trust you. That I should, I don't know, learn to understand you in all your supreme dominance and just know that you won't leave me. But I don't know how to do that. You see? I'm a bad Sub. I don't have enough natural trust. I worry all the time and - I don’t know if it’s worth it. It’s not fair to you."

Harvey tilts his chin up and puts both hands on either side of his face. "I won't leave you, Mike. I won't." He punctuates the last word with a gentle shake as if trying to jar Mike into believing in him. "And if you can't trust that yet, then I guess I'll just have to work harder to earn it." His eyes are intense as he wipes a thumb across Mike's lower lip. He leans in and kisses him soft and slow, but with an edge of determined desperation that Mike can’t help but respond to. When they pull apart Harvey leans his forehead against Mike's and they both sigh.

"I'll make us worth it. I will."


	16. Chapter 16

Mike is leaning back against the pillows of their bed, his legs spread wide, with Harvey laying between them. It’s dark, probably very late, although he can’t see the time from his position. Harvey has been above him, caressing him, holding him down, rubbing his entire body, and overwhelming him to the point that Mike isn’t exactly sure what’s going on, how long they’ve been at this, or if he really cares. Harvey has been running his hands up his sides, kissing, and sucking at his collarbone and chest. He slides up and captures Mike’s lips in a luxurious open mouthed kiss. Mike moans softly and barely responds, too overcome to do anything but totally submit his body.

He’s never felt anything like this. It’s like being in subspace for hours and hours without being able to climax, without being able to crash, without being able to do anything but ride endlessly until he’s so high he can barely think. All he can hear are the wet sounds of their mouths, moans, and a white noise in his ears. He’s pretty sure he’s sweating, he’s pretty sure he’s babbling, and he’s confident that he’s so high on dominant pheromones that he’s about as pliable and vulnerable as it’s possible to be. And the completely wonderful thing is that all of it together makes him feel so good he could cry from the rightness of it.

The weird thing, however, is that none of this has anything to do with sex, not really. Neither of them have come. Harvey won't let him, no matter how much he strains and begs and shivers with the need for it. He just shakes his head and wordlessly continues on with his torturous caresses. It’s gone on so long Mike has stopped feeling that particular need. Whatever this is, whatever Harvey is doing, it's something Mike doesn't have words for.

After Mike came home from visiting his Grandmother and dumped his worries on Harvey, he found himself hovered over so much he snapped, demanding that Harvey give him some space. But he didn't.

Harvey sat him on the bed and started undressing him.

"I'm not a child."

"I know that."

"Don't take me so literally," he said sarcastically, suddenly feeling awkward around Harvey's quietly overwhelming presence. "I'm not worried you'll leave me _tonight_."

"Here." Harvey pulled the covers back. "You should try to sleep, you're exhausted."

Mike looked at the pulled down covers from where he sat on the bed. He reached out and put the tips of his fingers against Harvey's belly. Harvey grabbed his hand and held it tight between his own. "Are you coming with me?"

"Of course."

They laid down together even though it was only a quarter past ten. The last thing Mike remembers is falling asleep, unnerved by how closely Harvey was watching him, eyes dark and eyebrows heavy with concentration, and then waking again like this. With his Dom on and over and around him.

Harvey has proven that he will feast on Mike’s mouth until he's done. Mike has learned tonight that rushing, directing, or making demands of him is hopeless. He sighs as Harvey releases his mouth, kisses his chest with lips and tongue, over neck and collarbone, nipple and even the soft skin around his jutting hips. He runs his open lips over Mike's cock, his hands holding his legs open wide. Mike sighs and Harvey moans, his voice shuddering and broken sounding. When Harvey finally swallows him, Mike can just feel nails digging into his thighs and he can barely even react. He just sighs and lets the orgasm roll out of him. There's none of the shattering intensity he's used to. He probably wouldn't have even minded if Harvey never did let him come. But he does, and somewhere in the middle of the ecstasy, soundlessly, he passes out.

 

 

Mike sits straight up out of bed, looks to either side, and finding Harvey gone starts calling out for him. His skin is hot and tingling and he feels like he's going to throw up.

Harvey comes rushing out of the bathroom with some of his shaving cream not quite wiped off the right side of his jaw. Mike looks at him. He's shaking and Harvey is beside him in a second with both hands on him.

"I think I'm sick."

Harvey pulls the blankets up around his shoulders and rubs the pins and needles from his back and sides.

"You're not sick. This is sub-drop."

There's a long pause while Mike processes this. There's a fog clouding his normally crystal sharp focus. This isn't sub-drop. Sub-drop is a lazy, clingy, little-bit-drunk feeling. It sometimes even makes him silly. This is the flu.

"No, Harvey. I feel like shit."

"I know. I shouldn't have let you ride that long last night." He sits back just long enough to take off his robe and drape it around Mike. "Especially since you didn't know what would happen."

Mike's stomach roils and he groans. Harvey guides them both down to the bed and covers them to the ears with the covers. Mike wraps his arms and legs around his Dom and presses the top of his head under his chin.

"How much time before work?"

"We're not going in. I called Donna."

Mike pushes away and tries to roll out the other side. "I have to. I have work, Harvey." Mike is pulled back under. "I have work. I want to get the - the paperwork for the, uh, for the - I don't want to do it tomorrow. We have the gala tomorrow. Wait no, tomorrow is Saturday. Shit. Monday is gonna suck."

"If you're a good boy and stay in bed until I tell you you’ve had enough, I'll take you in for a couple of hours tonight after closing. Deal?"

Mike nods and realizes, with Harvey holding him, he really doesn't feel that bad at all.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Of course. Always."

 

 

Mike and Harvey walk into the office casually and at a reasonable distance, conscious of the security cameras. Mike has been quiet, relaxed, and cared for all evening. When Harvey woke him up in the late-afternoon, he let himself be guided from bed to the shower. He stood with his arms wrapped around himself while Harvey washed his hair and rubbed steady confident hands over his skin until the sweat from last night was washed away. After some take-out Chinese they dressed in their weekend clothes and headed out into the dark.

Donna is sitting in Harvey’s office, reading something on her phone. There’s a shopping bag on the floor beside her.

“Go do your paperwork,” Harvey says turning to him and blocking Mike’s view. They’re standing just far enough apart that they would look like nothing more than collaborating colleagues. “You have two hours and then I’m taking you home. There’s nothing that time sensitive is there? Think.” 

Mike looks up at him. “Yes and no. I can get the worst of it done by then. You know, if I weren’t your Sub you’d have my hide for not getting my work done on time.”

“Yeah well, you are my Sub and I can have your hide in other ways.” He grins, winks and turns on his heel to meet Donna who is watching them with a grin on her face.

After two hours Mike is so deep into his work, the blissful mindless monotony of it, intensified by the quiet of a completely empty associate’s office, that he doesn’t even notice that it’s after nine. Harvey leans over his cubicle wall.

“Let’s go. Time’s up.”

“K. Just give me fifteen, okay? I can get this last email sent.”

Harvey leans over and pushes the button on his monitor.

“Hey!”

“Listen to your boss. Your work is finished for today.” Mike looks up at him and notices that something has changed in his expression. Earlier he had been about as blissed out as Mike from what he can only assume is a Dom’s version of overexposure to Sub pheromones. Now he looks a little scatterbrained. His jaw is set in a firm tight clench and his eyes can’t focus.

Mike cleans up his space marginally. He sets the pens back in their little cup and stuffs his paperwork, files, and notes into the top drawer of his desk.

“You’re acting a little -” Mike glances over at him as they walk to the elevator, “- off. I’m sorry if I freaked you out last night.” They stand facing each other at the elevators while one climbs steadily up. “I’m insecure, ya know? It’s not your issue, it’s mine. I’ll figure it out.”

Harvey glances over at him and then goes back to watching the digital numbers. When the door opens he steps in and Mike follows. Just as soon as the doors close he shifts a couple of inches closer and places a hand on Mike’s lower back.

“Someday you’ll understand that your issues are my issues. Stop berating yourself, Mike. It bothers me.”

Mike gulps, nods, and follows Harvey out of the elevator, the building, and into a cab. He’s grateful for the opportunity to relax into the privacy of the vehicle. It’s tense and sort of big-brotherish knowing there are security cameras watching him in the office. Harvey runs a hand along his shoulder and around the back of his neck. Mike lets his head be lifted off the back of the seat and his gaze directed to Harvey.

“It seems to me,” Harvey says as he caresses Mike, “that there haven’t been many people who have proven worthy of your trust.” Mike blinks but doesn’t acknowledge that he’s right. Other than his Grandmother, Mike has learned that keeping people at arm’s length is the only way of making sure he isn’t hurt.  

“I do not intend to be another disappointment.”

A tear runs down Mike’s cheek that Harvey quickly dashes off with his thumb. He scoots closer to the warmth and strong embrace of his Dom. He's not going to thank him, not yet. Mike does want to believe that he can stop worrying, stop doubting. But it doesn't work that way.

For now, the fact that Harvey said it, that he wants, or thinks he wants to be that for Mike is good enough. He can live with that.

 

 

As they walk out into the hall of the apartment floor, Harvey suddenly releases the arm around his shoulder as if startled. Before Mike has time to process what's happening Harvey grabs him firmly.

"Mike?"

Mike looks from Harvey, whose expression he'd been watching, to the figure lurking at the end of the hall. Trevor is standing up from where he'd been sitting beside their front door. Mike tries to step forward but finds that Harvey isn't letting go.

"Who the fuck is that?" Trevor slurs. Mike looks him over and can tell he's a little drunk and very high. Mike recognizes the condition, they used to love getting in this state together. Mike tries again to pull away but Harvey digs his fingers into his hip.

"It's okay," Mike whispers. "I can handle this."

"I don't want you -"

He caresses the hand holding him back. "Harvey, come on, don’t overreact."

Harvey looks down at him and then back to Trevor before finally releasing him, if not reluctantly. Mike goes over to Trevor who has a hand against the wall for support.

"Trevor, you're way too high to be out. What are you doing here?"

Trevor lays a hand on Mike's shoulder, having seemed to forgotten about Harvey's presence behind them. "Everyone's left me."

"What?"

Trevor bends over himself slightly and rubs a hand across his face. He's making a low keening sound in the back of his throat that makes Mike's heart break.

"Trevor I haven't left you. I just - where's Jenny? Let me call her."

He shakes his head. "She wants to be my Dom now. Can you believe that? I told her to fuck off, and she did." He chokes back a sob and rubs again at his face.

Mike doesn't say anything. The last time he'd seen Jenny she'd seemed so confident, so self assured, so dominant. He'd been sure that things would work out between his friends. That he could take several large steps back and follow Harvey's instructions to avoid the influence and temptation that their attractive but toxic lifestyle encouraged.

"Maybe - maybe she needs something different out of her life now. People change."

"Like you?" He says with a quiet half lidded look at Mike.

"I'm happy. I'm - finding happiness. Maybe Jenny just wants to explore different ways to make herself, and both of you, happy. She loves you, you know."

Trevor makes that sorrowful noise again and trips over himself trying to take two steps back. Mike tries to grab him but suddenly Harvey is there holding him up.

"Don't touch me, man," Trevor snaps. "Seriously. Who the fuck are you?"

Harvey ignores the rudeness completely and instead unlocks the door. "Mike, your friend can sleep in your studio tonight. I'd like it if he were gone in the morning."

Trevor says something under his breath that Mike doesn't quite catch, but Harvey obviously does because he suddenly has a finger in Trevor's face and a tight hand around his wrist.

"Don't screw with me. Get inside and go to sleep before I leave you here in the hall."

Regardless of the dominant anger that would have made Mike remember himself, even before, Trevor seems unfazed. Mike stands back and lets a still combative Trevor be lead unsteadily into his apartment. Harvey flicks on the light and looks over his shoulder at Mike.

"Get him in bed. He needs to sleep this off." Mike nods and starts encouraging Trevor out of his clothes.

Maybe Trevor is higher than usual, or maybe it's just Mike’s recent distance from his friend, but somehow Mike doesn't remember ever being so unnerved by Trevor when he’s in this state. It was an expected part of Trevor being Trevor. Now it makes Mike embarrassed. And it's not that he's above the lifestyle he was forced into - his mode of survival had been necessary. But ultimately, it just wasn't worth it. He would have died, figuratively and more than likely physically, if he'd stayed like that for too long. He would have made it through his youth, but after? Impossible. And now Mike can see that Trevor’s future is in no better shape.

Mike pushes him into the bed and tosses the blankets up over him before turning away. Trevor's hand shoots out and grabs him.

"We're done too, aren't we?"

Mike looks down at the sorrow on his best friend's face and his chest tightens. "No, Trevor. No one is abandoning you. Not me and not Jenny. Let’s talk about it some other time, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Trevor lays a hand over his eyes with a grimace when a light in the hall is clicked on by Harvey.

"Can I get you anything Mr. Evans?" he asks.

Mike smiles. Trevor mumbles a muffled no.

"Fine. Sleep well."

Mike gives Trevor's hand a squeeze before leaving him alone in his room, the room Mike used many times to sleep off nights just like this. Nights when he felt alone, confused, conflicted, and desperate to hang on to his old life even as a new and better one was staring him in the face.

As soon as Mike has locked the door Harvey pulls him around by the arm and kisses him. “Tomorrow is the gala. You should sleep.”

Mike nods. He still feels the effects of the weird bone tiredness he’d experienced that morning. It’s strange that he’d be tired again after sleeping away most of the day, but he is, and it makes his stomach flutter knowing that Harvey understands this instinctively. Harvey walks him into the bedroom and helps him out of his suit. At moments like this it’s as if they’ve been together forever, like Harvey knows every in and out of Mike, every habit, emotion, and thought. It’s moments like this when Mike feels truly safe. He only wishes he weren’t so entirely sure that there wouldn't be more bad days. Days when Mike will feel distant and confused, lost and unsure, and too uncomfortably dependent on a Dom when he thought he could make it without. 

He fears that one day soon he’ll start hating himself for it, all the while knowing that he couldn’t be any more blessed. Harvey encourages him into bed alone, explaining that he needs to send out a few emails before joining him. The way his sturdy confidant expression looks with the light from the hall shining over his face makes Mike’s heart skip a beat.

It might be true that what he and Trevor accomplished for all those years was, in a way, admirable and even brave. And maybe submitting to Harvey will never make Mike into a revolutionary, nor even anything more than an ordinary Sub with needs and impulses, but at moments like this, Mike doesn’t care. Looking tonight at Trevor, Mike remembers what it was like to feel lost and angry and scared. At least now he can say that he doesn't feel that, and if he ever does, he has someone to help carry the burden.

Maybe he’s not remarkable, maybe seeking ordinary contentment doesn’t make him something special, but he’s happy. And despite the doubts and struggles, happy is seeming more and more like the point.

“Try to sleep,” Harvey says with a squeeze to his arm. Mike smiles and Harvey leaves, shutting the door behind him.

 

 

When he wakes Harvey is sleeping soundly beside him. Mike puts on a robe and smiles at the distinctive Saturday quality to the mid morning light coming in through the windows. Ever since he was a kid, there was always something uniquely cheery about that beginning of the weekend feeling.

He’s in the middle of pouring himself a bowl of too sweet breakfast cereal, one with a cartoon character on the front, when he remembers Trevor. He sets the milk down with a curse and goes quietly to open the door. It’s still dark inside with only minimal light coming in through the closed blinds. Mike walks in and is just about to turn on the bedside lamp when he notices that there are two bodies in his bed. He takes a step back. Curled around his friend with her nose tucked into his hair is Jenny. Trevor is sleeping, his facial muscles ironed out as he breathes in the familiar scent of his longtime girlfriend. Mike smiles, turns, and leaves them be.

Harvey is pouring himself another bowl of cereal in the kitchen and rubbing at his face.

“You called her.”

He looks up and then down again at the carton of organic 2%. “If I can’t, or in this case don’t want to take charge with a Sub so obviously in need of grounding, the least I can do is provide them with someone who will.” 

“That could have ended badly. I mean, seriously badly.”

Harvey shrugs. “His pride was on it’s last leg. Besides,” he runs a hand along Mike’s back and pulls him in, “you would have felt too obligated to take care of him.”

“He’s my friend. You will let me be there for him if he needs me, won’t you? Because if not -”

“I’m your Dom not your dictator. All I ask is that you honor our agreement about being in the presence of drug use.” He looks over at Mike, his jaw twitching tensely.

“Yeah, I promise.” They take their bowls and sit side by side at the bar. “I didn’t like seeing him that way. It made me wonder if I was like that, before.”

Harvey puts a hand on his thigh without looking up from his bowl. They’re tense. “Nearly. Not quite, but, nearly.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _What I learned from this chapter is that when I send the boys out of the apartment, writer's block gets me around the throat. And then, as soon as they're in the front door again, the fucking flood gates open._
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> _Hope you enjoy!_

Harvey borrows a Porsche from the club so they can drive together. He, reasons that if anyone notices or wants to over contemplate the meaning of he and Mike arriving and departing together, then more power to them. 

Mike is sitting in the front seat anxiously fiddling with his black bow tie.

“This thing is too tight.” 

Harvey reaches over to still his hand. “Leave it, it’s fine. You’ll ruin it if you keep pulling.” Mike drops his hands with a humph.

When it came right down to it Mike tried several times, and failed just as many, at getting out of this stupid gala. It’s just one more slightly uncomfortable thing he’s required to do as part of his job description as pretend-Dom-lawyer-associate. And he’s almost used to it - of being slightly out of place and fighting not to look it. But not quite.

Tonight hadn't seemed like such a big deal until he'd sat on the bed watching Harvey meticulously dress in his tuxedo, knowing that it would be a fucking fantasy for him to even pretend to carry all that tailoring. It was three o’clock and Jenny had only just emerged from the bedroom with a silly smile and sleepy eyes, thanking Harvey and asking for some space to get Trevor out of the apartment without an audience. Mike had hugged her, finding with relief, but just a hint of mourning, that his friend no longer had eyes for him. And it's not that he’s ever relished the unwanted attention but it did, in a way, mark an important shift in their relationship.

They've been stuck at a red light for almost ten minutes, and all the while Mike has been imagining himself awkward, gangly, and skinny, giving himself away at every turn. 

"I look like a poser."

"No you don't. You look," Harvey observes him from the driver's seat, "really good." Mike blushes, slumps his shoulders, and pouts.

"Mike, promise me you'll try to have a good time."

"Yeah, okay."

Harvey looks at him for the several minutes, his brow furrowed, while Mike looks determinedly forward.

Donna greets them with a fake smile while Rachel sports a telltale scowl behind her.

“You two are late,” Donna whispers without breaking her grin.

Harvey shrugs, adjusts his tie, and grabs a champagne off a passing tray. “If I weren’t late it might ruin my fashionable reputation.” He looks over his shoulder at Mike and nods to the tray of flutes. Mike plucks one off carefully, fearful he might do something clumsy right off and tip it over.

Harvey looks away and transitions, just as they discussed, into his act of bored disinterest. He and Donna disappear to small talk the guests.

The venue is beautiful. A Manhattan high rise rooftop with attached wine and piano bar. Because of the December climate the patio has been closed off with a dome of arching windows looking out on the city. The guests are dressed in more finery than Mike has seen outside the movies, and regardless of the fact that Harvey assures him that his own suit is a cut above the rest, he still manages to feel embarrassingly out of place. Elegant crisp moonlight shines down while dim lamps create a warm atmosphere.

“You still fighting with Donna?” Mike asks Rachel, who is lingering at his side. She rolls her eyes and flips her hair over one shoulder. 

“We’ll probably always be fighting.” 

He grins. “And does that make the sex more or less exciting?” 

She looks over at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. 

“She didn’t tell me, you two are just transparent as hell.”

Her shoulders tense up and she bites her lip. “Yeah, well, we aren’t together.”

“No?”

“No. We just - I mean, sometimes we hook up - well, you know how it is, when needs must.”

Mike nods. “Yeah, I know.” 

They stand in silence watching the annoyingly rich clients of Pearson Hardman trickle into the party and insert themselves seamlessly into conversation.

“And to answer your question, it makes it more exciting.” She turns and flashes him a brilliant white smile. Her pretty brown eyes sparkle with the reflection of a nearby lantern.

“I’m happy for you.”

Just then Donna passes, eyes them with annoyance and cocks her head at Rachel.

“I’m being summoned. Things to do, people to schmooze.”

As she walks away, the curve of her back and ass swinging under her silk dress, Mike wonders, again, what Harvey sees in him. Subs like that would fall at Harvey’s feet and beg to offer up their devotion and unfaltering obedience. Subs like Scottie. Harvey could have anything he wants, and he, apparently, chooses Mike regardless. Go figure.

At the other end of the room Mike spots him. He has one hand on the shoulder of a Sub with long blonde hair and a delicate figure underneath a phenomenal Sub’s suit. 

 

 

“So I guess I should get licensed for couples therapy or something, huh? You seem happy.” Ethan’s voice is soft and his movements languid. Harvey promised to find him a worthwhile Dom - particularly one with a large pocket book - but now that he sees him again the task suddenly seems difficult. It’s not that he feels ownership or even loss, but there is something maddening about pairing off an ex-lover. Even though he and Ethan had been short lived, and even though his charms are dimmed dramatically by the view of Mike standing vulnerable across the room, begging for his attention. 

Mike’s eyes narrow and darkly when Ethan turns around to see what has drawn Harvey’s attention. Shit, maybe he should have said something. But then, with everything else on his mind tonight it was the last thing -

“Harvey?” Ethan says, drawing him back.

He tears his gaze away from Mike and takes a sip of champagne. “You gave me good advice, Ethan, but let’s not get carried away. Mike and my happiness was our own doing.”

Most every Dom in the room, and there are many, have been glancing over their shoulders at Harvey’s guest. 

“Mike looks pissed,” Ethan says in reply.

“He’ll get over it,” Harvey whispers. “He knows he’s mine.”

Ethan bites his lip and takes a step closer. “You know I’m not opposed to threesomes. When the right couple comes along.”

Harvey grins, his cock hardening at the thought. “As appealing as that sounds, I don’t think he’s anywhere near ready for something like that. If he ever is...”

Ethan shrugs. “Well, keep my number around anyway.”

Harvey chuckles. “Enough of that. Now, I think I promised you a rich Dom? Preferably one who’s not attached.”

He smiles mischievously. “Yes, please.”

Harvey looks around the room and after considering and dismissing several options he settles on Jacob Rowland, the son of a CEO with whom Harvey has worked for the past four years. He’s attractive, steady, even-tempered and, as rumor has it, lonely after a recent break up. He points and Ethan’s grin widens. Harvey leads him over and is barely thirty seconds into his introduction before the intensity of their mutual interest makes it necessary for him to leave. 

 

 

They are two and a half hours into the event when Harvey realizes he hasn’t seen Mike in a while. When he finally finds him it’s in a corridor leading to a janitorial closet.

“What are you doing?”

“Shit, you scared me.”

“What’s going on,” Harvey asks. After looking cautiously over his shoulder he presses up close, just enough so that the cold air breezing in from outside is warmed by their combined heat.

“Nothing,” he smiles. “I was just coming back in. I needed a breather.”

“Okay.” 

Mike puts a hand on his Dom’s chest and breathes slow deep breaths, his eyes downcast. 

“You know, if this is about Ethan, I’m sorry -”

“It’s not about Ethan. I’m not jealous.”

“I invited him as a thank you. For helping me with... something.”

Mike glances up at him and blushes. “With me, you mean?”

“I confess. I needed a push in the right direction.”

“You shouldn’t go around telling people that, you might ruin your reputation as the best closer in the business.”

Harvey snorts. “You were a challenge above even my expertise.”

Mike looks at him for a long time, until the color in his cheeks grows even pinker. “I wish we were home.”

“You’ve been doing great. I’ve been watching you. You play a flawless Dom.”

Mike licks his lips and takes a step closer. “It just gets exhausting, after a while. Especially at a party. I’m not used to keeping it up under so much attention. And besides, being with you doesn’t exactly help.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s - I dunno, a good thing.”

Harvey smiles and lets Mike stand quietly before him with his fingers resting against the warmth of his chest. He listens for the sound of feet coming down the hardwood corridor behind him. When he's sure they're alone he bends down and kisses Mike. The kisses are slow and sweet, Harvey’s hand cupped tightly around his chin.

He breathes deeply of Mike's subtle submissive scent and licks into his mouth. Mike whimpers and stumbles until he finds leverage on the wall behind him. When Harvey finally releases him, Mike’s breaths are fast and shallow.

"You shouldn't have done that. I'll be hard all night now."

"You'll get rid of it. Use that perfect memory of yours to think of something - "

"Harvey?"

He hums and pets Mike's neck, feeling the pulse under his fingers.

"I was thinking. Well, we agreed in the contract that I can initiate if I want to, so long as I let you take over from there.”

“That’s right.”

“Good because... I want to do it tonight."

Harvey's hand stills. “Do what?”

Mike blushes and his eyes lower shyly.

"I don’t know,” Harvey says. “I’m not sure you’re ready."

"I am, and I trust you. Besides you're getting impatient."

"No. You feel pressured. Let's give it a couple more -"

"Harvey for fucks sake! I'm going to feel pressured whether it's you or my own head doing the pushing. I was scared for a long time and if I don't let you show me what it's supposed to be like then I'm always going to be living in the past, scared shitless of a bad memory. I'm ready. I want to belong to you and that's not going to happen if I hold something back.” He exhales. “Please, don't make me reason with you anymore."

Harvey wraps a hand around to the back of Mike’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. "It would be my honor, and pleasure. I've thought about little else, so I have a game plan." He smiles and Mike chuckles.

"You always have a game plan."

"Now I'm going to be the one with a hard on."

“I could take care of it for you.”

“And where would you do that?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take any excuse I can to ditch. Let’s do it in the Porshe.”

Harvey laughs at Mike’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t want to get that cleaning bill.” Mike huffs. “Have you looked at the silent auction lots?" Mike shakes his head. "Let's go together. It's a reason to stay close." 

 

 

They've barely passed three glass covered stands before Mike sighs, takes a sip of his cocktail, and says "I would embarrass myself if I even tried to bid on one of these." They're standing by a pair of tickets to Paris. 

"It's for an international business conference. Trust me, you'd rather see Paris from outside a conference center."

Mike shrugs. "Yeah well, I've never been anywhere so a Parisian conference would be a huge step up." 

Next is a Montblanc watch and pen set. Mike chuckles. "I was looking at one of these the day you interviewed me. Thinking about how I would never be able to afford it."

Harvey takes a sip of his scotch. "You can now."

"I guess. I just don't think it would feel right."

"What do you mean?"

Mike tilts his head, staring at the beautiful platinum body and black face. It's thick and heavy, made for a strong wrist. A wrist like Harvey's.

"It's a Dom's watch," he whispers. "I don't want anything else weighing me down. It's hard enough as it is." 

"I don't think you would have said that a couple of months ago. You would have been proud to wear it, if I said you could pull it off. Which you could."

Mike shrugs. "Yeah well, people change." He strolls to the next stand and stops, his shoulders tense and his fingers white knuckled around his glass. Harvey joins him, standing just behind.

Under the glass is a collar wrapped around the base of a black velvet display. It’s made of luxury grade leather with a mahogany stain. Circling around it are several small white gold studs, shaped like rounded diamonds. At the front the stud is three times as wide with an amethyst set into the middle. Under it hangs a delicate but sturdy ring. 

"It's a beautiful collar." Harvey says. Beside him he can just barely see Mike's head nod. "Elegant and rich, but understated."

They stand looking at it for a few moments, Harvey sipping at his drink and Mike staring transfixed. Finally Mike clears his throat. "Someone's Sub will be happy tonight. Let's just hope it's not Louis’s new girl, no one deserves that."

Harvey laughs and Mike smiles as they walk to the next, still gossiping under their breaths.

 

 

Two hours later when Mike is about to pluck his fifth drink off a moving tray he catches Harvey's eye from across the room and gets a stern shake of the head. He sighs, puts it back, and folds his arms over his chest grumpily.

Honestly, he's reached his quota for standing around smiling, shaking hands, small talking, and pretending he knows what the point of all this is. The only thing making it bearable is the steady intake of intoxicants. And it's not like he's drunk. He's just one, maybe two drinks away from not giving a shit anymore. But Harvey is watching him like a hawk.

More than half the guests have already trickled out and the energy in the room has died down to the annoyingly stubborn stragglers. According to Harvey, and backed up by both Rachel and Donna, it's the job of Pearson Hardman employees to still be seen having a good time when the last guest is dragged out drunk and sloppy. Determined to be the exception to the rule, Mike has already tried to fake sick, fake an emergency, and just plain beg Harvey to get him home. He even attempted to blackmail Donna and Rachel when he found them up against a wall in the service closet near the Dom’s bathroom. That, similarly, did not work as planned.

The silent auction was over and winners had been discreetly announced with tiny folded name tags in place of lot numbers. Speakers had spoken, contracts had been renewed, signed and dated, and new connections had been made. Harvey looked positively glowing with pride and achievement as he re-secured three important clients for the next year. The energy radiating from him is intoxicating and Mike can't help but bask in it. Even from afar.

He is standing against a pillar stroking the now empty glass Harvey won't let him refill when someone taps on his shoulder. Behind him Ethan stands with a mischievous grin. 

"He only invited me here to help hook me up. I promise." 

Mike looks around to reassure himself that the room is practically empty and those few stragglers are busy in their own intense conversations.

"He told me. I wasn't worried."

Ethan shrugs and tilts his head toward an attractive young Dom with dark hair and a serious expression.

"What do you think?"

Mike shrugs. "Why are you asking me, we aren't friends."

Ethan takes a step back and smirks. "Ouch. Uncalled for Mikey."

"Sorry. I'm just - exhausted. I want to go home and get out of this fucking tuxedo. It's a pain in the ass to carry myself in it, you have no idea."

Ethan looks him over and nods. "You look good. You should be proud."

"Thank you."

"Come on, can't we be friends? I would like that."

Mike stares at Ethan thinking about all the ways he is exactly what Mike will never be - the kind of Sub Harvey deserves and will more than likely end up with, in the end.

"Yeah, I guess. But you can't expect me to be excited about having you around Harvey."

Ethan's eyes narrow. "You worried he'll realize what he's missing? Because you shouldn’t be."

"No. No, that's not what I - no."

"Have you looked at the silent auction winners?" Ethan asks, his face expressionless.

"No. I didn't bid."

"You should take a look, you might be interested."

He looks over his shoulder at the row of raised glass boxes that have now been emptied and replaced with little white cards with a names printed on them.

"I wish the best for you both. I really do." Ethan leans over and kisses Mike softly on the cheek. "Make him happy, okay?" He whispers it in Mike's ear, his breath tickling the delicate hairs there.

Mike nods, dumbfounded by an all consuming thought that should have been at least a little more obvious. As he looks toward the now empty side of the room where the glass boxes appear more ominous than they had five minutes ago, Mike catches Harvey's eye. He's smiling and small-talking some Dom with a receding hairline. When he realizes where Mike is headed his smile falters.

Mike turns his back on his Dom and walks without letting the nervousness or hesitation show in his step. He walks, trying hard not to think about the prospect of wanting, for the first time in his life, to look in a mirror and see, on his own neck, what used to signify oppression and weak will. A year ago he would have balked at the idea. Fuck, a month ago he would have. But recently some undefinable thing has shifted in him, making him want to lay claim to his Dom... No, that's not it at all. _He_ wants to be claimed. He wants to be wanted enough that someone - Harvey - thinks he's worth more than paper promises. They're both lawyers, they know how temporal paper contracts can be. Mike wants leather around his neck.

When he finally steps up to the case he's so prepared to see what he wants that he has to double check the lot number twice in his memory. Lot number 5 - A one of a kind leather collar with white gold accents. Number 5. Sold to Daniel Tillman. He gulps back a mouthful of sour spit and licks his drying lips. A hand brushes against his side.

"Let's go. We should go."

"I thought - "

"I'll tell Donna she has to wind the gala down on her own. You're too tired."

Mike stands looking at the foreign name, wondering who Tillman is and why the fuck Ethan hates him so much until Harvey returns and guides him to the exit.

Once outside Mike wraps his arms around himself and stares blankly at the street while Harvey gives his ticket to the valet.

Harvey stands close to him and Mike can't decide if he should move closer or step away. Harvey didn't do anything wrong. Not really. Mike just had a fleeting moment of delusion. Harvey never promised him more than what they have now. And why should he? They've been doing fine. Maybe not perfect. They've fought, a lot. But then Harvey promised - he promised things would get better. 

The car zooms around the corner and the valet holds the passenger door open for Mike. Harvey is already behind the wheel when Mike falls back into the seat and puts an arm over his eyes. A hand falls on his knee, which he decides not to shake off, even if it seems irritating just now. The car lurches forward and joins the crowd of taxis on the busy Manhattan street.

"We need to talk about this."

Mike swallows and twists away from Harvey's overpowering dominant presence. It's always stronger when they're in a small space. And while sometimes that's a very good thing, right now Mike just wants to get away.

"Yes, sir."

"What did Ethan tell you?"

Mike shrugs. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

Mike's leg tenses but instead of letting go Harvey squeezes tight. "He just told me that I might be interested in the auction winners. That's all."

"Fuck." Harvey whispers it and runs a hand over his face.

"I thought maybe you bid on - something. But, it's no big deal. Really. He probably wanted to show off something his date bought - what was his name again? I didn't get a chance to finish looking." He clears his throat and rests his head in his hand. "It's nothing."

"Mike. I know what you thought -"

"I wasn't thinking anything. Really. And even if I were, it's stupid."

In the long silence that follows, as they slowly weave through traffic, Harvey looks over at him five times. 

"Mike I wanted to tell -"

"Can we talk about something else? Please? Didn't you think Rachel looked good? Ever since she hooked up with Donna she's seemed so much happier - "

 

 

Mike walks into the apartment first and turns on the light with a sigh. He rolls his head from side to side, trying to loosen the tension there and stands at the hall table where he drops his wallet and house key.

Harvey had humored his evasiveness all the way home and by the time they parked at the building they were practically in good spirits again, even if the smiles were, on Mike's part, forced. He'd even managed to forget about the plans they'd made earlier. It’s something he'd almost been looking forward to, despite his misgivings. But now he's just resigned to getting it over with so both of them can get on with their lives without it lurking in the background. And it's not like he doesn't trust Harvey - he does. More than anyone. And he's sure that one way or another Harvey intends to make it as pleasurable as possible. And that's something, at least.

He loosens his bow tie, just barely noticing Harvey's reflection in the mirror as he hangs their coats on the opposite wall. 

It's weird. Considering that Mike never thought he’d have someone significant in his life, he should be happy with what he has. It’s not that he was expecting anything particularly _romantic_. But after awhile, one does begin to hope for something more.

Mike jolts a little when he feels Harvey press up behind him and run his hand along his hip. He sighs and forces a smile at their reflection. Harvey smiles back. They really are a handsome couple.

"You did wonderfully today. I mean it. You still amaze me. It's starting to become such a turn on when you play Dom. Very confusing."

Mike smiles and squirms under the hand holding him by the waist. Harvey pushes his hips in so that he's trapped between his erection and the table. The hand caressing his hip moves up to his shoulder where it runs down over his chest, grazing a nipple, and then up again until it's unbuttoning his top buttons with quick fingers. Mike sighs, feeling himself relax under the attention. When his collar is undone and hanging open over his bow tie, Harvey noses aside the fabric and kisses him at the hot point where shoulder meets neck. Mike sighs and Harvey moans as lips turn to tongue and teeth, feasting on the fragrant skin above his pulse point. 

"You taste better here than anywhere else." Harvey runs his hand up from his chest and lays it across his collarbone. He kisses him open mouthed and with gentle licks, his hand tightening around Mike's neck until he's nearly alarmed. Just when Mike goes to grab at the wrist holding him at the brink of too tight Harvey releases slightly and props his chin on Mike's shoulder. He runs his thumb back and forth across his quickly beating pulse.

"You're the most beautiful Sub I've ever had."

Mike blushes. "Don't lie, that can't be -"

The grip tightens again and Mike gasps. "Don't contradict me."

"Yes, sir."

His fingers loosen slowly and so does the intensity of his expression. If this is meant to be Harvey's ‘plan’ for foreplay before fucking him, he's not sure he estimated correctly. Mike is more frightened of his Dom than he's ever been before. And yet, there is something undeniably arousing about it, judging by the state of his rock hard erection.

"You're also the most challenging. And I love a challenge."

"I know."

"Especially when I win that challenge. When I conquer it and dominate it totally."

When Mike gulps he can feel his Adam's apple bob against Harvey's fingers.

"But then, maybe that definition is better saved for the office. What do you think?"

Mike looks at their reflection - his flushed face and Harvey's dark eyes. "I... I don't know. I guess I like feeling won."

Harvey smiles broadly and Mike joins him. The pressure around his neck loosens again.

"I also like keeping what I've won."

Mike nods. When he realizes Harvey is waiting for some response he whispers "I like being kept.”

Harvey runs his lips softly over his neck again. "I know what you were hoping for, earlier."

Mike blushes, down casts his eyes, and squirms.

"Eyes up," Harvey demands. "When we saw the collar I wasn't sure it was something you would want. Some Subs don't like the idea of a collar, and you, you are more unique than any Sub I have ever known. You're still a mystery to me in some ways. But I think I know now that the idea might not be distasteful to you." He looks up and catches his eyes in the reflection. "Am I right?"

Mike licks his quivering lips and nods, slowly.

"You were never meant to see the name on the card. I told Ethan about what I’d done, but I guess I left out that little detail."

Harvey releases him and before Mike has time to process he hears a clunk as something is set on the table. He looks down and swallows around a cotton tongue. A flat square velvet box with a silver latch sits before him. Harvey must have been holding it in his other hand. He lets Mike process for a minute before reaching forward and opening it, revealing the familiar collar beneath. 

He lets Mike touch it with unsure fingers before gently pulling it from it's case. He spins Mike around so that they're face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Harvey smiles, almost nervously, before taking the collar by it's clasp. Each of the two ends are capped with white gold plates that hook together with a secure clip, like a fine piece of jewelry. He holds it open between them.

Mike is licking his lips and trying to control the nervous energy bubbling up inside him.

“Mike Ross, I would be honored if you would accept my collaring. With it I promise to protect and guide you for as long as you choose to wear it.”

Mike wraps his arms around himself, suddenly terribly off balance, nearly dizzy with emotion. He must have stumbled because Harvey grabs him by the arm and looks at him with unveiled concern.

“I’m sorry, what was that last part?”

“Mike, I would never put a collar on a Sub I wasn’t prepared to keep. It’s meant to be a promise of security. I know how much you worry.”

“And what about me? Don’t you want... something from me in return?”

He turns Mike around to face the mirror again and holds the collar over his throat, just close enough that the leather ghosts against his skin. “I want you to say yes. I’ve been desperate to see you in this all night. Well, for much longer than that if I’m honest.”

Mike looks at their reflection. At the collar hovering over his skin. He imagines what it will feel like. The weight, the soft but unyielding leather, the glisten when the light hits it. The security. Harvey has tried to promise him security, time and again, and Mike, terrified untrusting Mike, couldn’t accept it. Now, he’s sure he can.

“Yes.” 

Harvey’s smile is infectious as he closes the ends. The clasp clicks shut and the collar stays perfectly in place just above the slope of his shoulders.

“It fits.” Mike runs trembling fingers across the leather. When he swallows it tightens just enough to let him know it’s there.

“Of course it does. I buy all your suits, I know your neck size. It wasn’t really an auction piece, you know. It was just yours. Donna let me put it up so I could gauge your reaction. I never meant for you to see the name on the card. I made it up. I couldn’t very well have the office wondering who I’ve collared.”

“Of course. I didn’t think of that.”

Harvey runs his hands up Mike’s clothed chest, his eyes alert and focused, until he has him around the shoulders. He flicks the buttons of his dress shirt and vest open and pulls it out of his belt before pushing it all off his shoulders to land in an uncharacteristic heap on the floor. “I want to see you naked and on your knees in it.”

Mike doesn’t hesitate unbuckling his belt and pants. Harvey chuckles and bends down to help him off with his shoes. By the time he’s standing Mike is already kneeling on the pile. He sighs, eyes closed, when Harvey steps up to him and runs both hands into his hair. Mike lays his head against Harvey’s thigh for leverage against the disorienting sense of unbalance, but Harvey pulls him back again and holds him steady and firm with a hand on each side of his head. “I want to see you. Tonight more than ever before.”

“Do I look good?”

“You know you do.”

“I feel good.”

Harvey swallows and strokes his hair 

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

Harvey laughs. “Direct, aren’t we.”

“I know how to ask for what I want.”

“Yes, I’m aware. I’ve been trying to train you to do it without ordering me around, but it’s not working.” 

“Fine.” Mike rolls his shoulders and puts on a face of dramatic sublimation. “Will you please take me to bed, sir? I want to feel your cock in me. I want to feel you pulling on my collar while you fuck me.”

“And you said you didn’t know how to talk dirty.”

“When the mood takes me... so, what are we waiting for? I’m ready and besides, there’s a belt buckle under my knee.”

“Are you sure. I want you to be sure.”

“I am.” Mike kneels up and runs his hands over Harvey’s sides until they’re taken securely into his grasp. “You’ll take care of me. If I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t have accepted this.” He grins softly and puts both their hands on his neck. 

“I’ll make it so good for you, baby. You’ll be begging for it every night.”

Mike smiles, his eyes gleaming with the promise of pleasure. “Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You all know what the next chapter is going to be, and I can promise a lot of it ;)_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Warning for shameless smut. If that bothers you, then I guess you can’t read this chapter... although I would say it’s a safe bet that if you’ve gotten to this point you’ll hardly mind ;)_
> 
>  
> 
> _Enjoy! And please, refer to the end notes for important info regarding the future of the series._

Harvey always considered himself to be, first and foremost, a controlled force. When other Doms slip up, loose control, fizzle down to their last fuse and let their not-so-carefully pent up energy combust, Harvey still has it together. He’s impassioned, sure, but he also knows how to prevent that passion from erupting, as it does with so many others. That’s why he’s a great lawyer, and, if he may be so bold, a great Dom. 

Tonight, however, is proving to be a test on even his control.

It’s not that he’s afraid he’ll hurt Mike. He won’t, it’s just that when, for the first time in his life, Harvey is looking down on a collared Sub, his collared Sub, whose mouth is wrapped wide and tight around his cock, his ability to remain collected becomes dubious. As Mike blinks up at him, worshiping him with his eyes, Harvey has to clench his hands into fists so as not to grab him by the roots of his hair and fuck his mouth until he’s choking on it. 

They've moved into the bedroom now, although even that took some effort. Harvey's tuxedo, like Mike's, is in a pile near the front door. The lights are all out aside from a dim one that illuminates the massive art fixture above his bed. It gives Mike's expression an ethereal shadow. Harvey is seated at the edge of the bed, reclining back on his elbows, with Mike on his knees before him.

Harvey wraps his fingers around the edges of the collar. Mike falters in his work and looks up for direction.

"You can take me deeper. I know you can. We've tried this before."

Mike's breathing picks up and even from this angle Harvey can see him gently humping the air, looking for friction. His hands are clenched behind him, not bound, just... restrained.

He runs a thumb down Mike's throat. "Relax and swallow around me. Good, that's it, just like that." Mike hums, from discomfort, maybe, but his enthusiasm to keep going is evident. "Fuck," Harvey repeats it under his breath as Mike, painstaking but determined, deep-throats him in a tortuously slow rhythm. "I love coming down your throat."

Mike falters again, this time in surprise. "Don't worry. I'll get hard again. And soon." He strokes Mike's head and, experimentally, tries pushing him back down on his length. Mike moans appreciatively and lets him do it a second time. "The thought of getting inside you is making me crazy. _This_ , will help me make it good for you."

With a burst of determination Mike picks up speed and works his tongue around Harvey's cock. He pulls off so far that Harvey is about to push him down again until, with a twinkle in his eye, Mike twirls his tongue around the head of his cock, dipping into his slit and gathering up the cum there. Harvey growls and tightens his fist in Mike's hair, tighter than he would dare if he were more composed. Mike waits for him to loosen up before taking the whole thing again in one swallow. Less than five minutes later Harvey mumbles a warning and shoots into his Sub's mouth. Mike sputters around the onslaught, but being the perfectionist he is, he works hard to swallow it all. Even what drips down his lips he licks up with a grin.

Harvey wants to collapse bonelessly onto the bed and compose himself, but that would leave Mike unattended, so he achingly pulls himself to a sitting position and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. "I didn't teach you that."

"I've been reading,” he confesses. “And watching some porn."

"Without me?"

Mike looks concerned. "I... I'm sorry?"

Harvey hiccups back a laugh and puts a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Hey, next time invite me. I like to watch too." They grin at each other as Harvey pulls at his collar until Mike is balancing awkwardly against his knees and being kissed. Sometimes Harvey can't help but to hold his Sub's mouth open and just take. He kisses Mike for a long time, even letting him take the lead for several long minutes as he often fights to do. Their lips eventually break for air, but Harvey keeps him pulled up close.

“You look so beautiful in my collar. I’ve never seen anything so perfect.”

Mike swallows and shifts his eyes up and down. “Never?”

Harvey tilts his head to the side and strokes him. “You know I always think you look good.”

“No, I mean... I meant your other -” he shakes the thought off and smiles sweetly. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“You want to know if I collared someone. If I collared Scottie.”

Mike’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t nod. “It’s none of my business who - I mean - my grandmother said all this shit about trust and I just -”

“You want to trust that it doesn’t matter, but it’s driving you crazy?”

He nods slowly.

“Good, I’m glad you want to trust me.” Harvey scoots back on the bed, his breathing just now returning to normal. He takes Mike by the hand and encourages him up until he’s sitting, straddling his lap. “But I've realized that keeping this information from you is tantamount to punishment. So I'll tell you. I never collared Scottie.”

“No?”

“No. One more free question. Choose wisely.”

“Was there anyone,” he licks his lips, “before that? That you collared, I mean.”

Harvey shakes his head. Mike smiles and blushes - it’s one of those rare moments when his natural submission shines through without any of the self-doubt or shame that Harvey has accepted as a possibly permanent part of Mike. Just now, for now, he’s free and Harvey feels so proud his stomach flutters. 

It really is a good thing Mike is ready because he _needs_ to bury his cock inside his Sub and make it official. His erection swells and twitches against Mike’s inner thigh.

Harvey runs his fingers down Mike’s back until they’re lingering at the juncture where his tailbone tips into a dimple. He kisses Mike’s delicate neck and slips his fingers down and in at the same moment. Mike gasps.

“Have you ever played with yourself, here?”

Mike licks his lips. “Sometimes. Not - uh, not much.”

“Did it feel good?”

“Kinda. I don’t know if - I mean, I never found - the spot.”

Harvey chuckles. “Get on your back. Feet flat on the bed.”

Mike peels himself away from Harvey’s sweat slick chest and drops gracefully back onto the bed. He stretches out and writhes in a way he must know is sexy as hell, before pulling his feet up against his thighs and opening himself unabashedly.  
   
“Like this?” He smirks.

Harvey exhales, stands, and without dropping his gaze goes to the bedside drawer to find a bottle of lube. Mike watches him and then turns away, hiding the flicker of hesitation in his eyes. Harvey kneels down between his spread legs. He drops the bottle beside Mike’s hip and takes one calf in his strong grip. His Subs’ inner thighs have been one of his favorite playgrounds for as long as he can remember, but with Mike he’s had to be careful. He kisses, nibbling gently up his thigh, Mike’s breathing becoming even more labored, until he’s at the softest bit - innermost, left, close enough to his groin that Mike’s public hair and cock nearly brush his cheek. Harvey presses tender lips to the skin, delighting in the scent and heat and flavor of him, and then, when that isn’t enough he tightens his grip around Mike’s ankle and bites down hard. Mike nearly screams as he comes up off the bed and then falls with a pained exhale. Harvey releases, licking and kissing the wound that he hopes will be dark purple in the morning.

He releases Mike’s ankle and runs his hands up, around his groin, over his lower belly, and down again before biting without warning on the opposite side. This time Mike arches and bucks his hips in a series of desperate thrusts.

While Mike is recovering Harvey coats his fingers with lube until they’re warm. He rubs his slippery thumbs into the already reddening spots, making Mike sigh, before slowly running each finger in toward their goal. Mike’s thighs tighten instinctively when Harvey reaches his cleft, but with only a nudge, he lets them fall open again shakily.

Harvey had thought about this before. Many times. Many _many_ times. He thought about pumping four fingers in and out of Mike while he lays face down below him, ass high. He thought about fingering him slowly and gently until he’s begging for hard penetration. He thought about letting Mike ride his fingers, observing what makes him scream. But in the end, this is the one that stuck. Traditional maybe, but nevertheless a favorite. A good view of his Sub’s cock and face and hole, all at the same time. 

Also, at least for now, this would give Mike the assurance of an escape route. Just in case. No one holding him down, no ropes, cuffs, shackles or blindfolds (although those would come soon). Just the two of them. Together, bare, and close.

“Pull your knees up. That’s it. Good boy.”

Harvey licks his lips at the dark puckered center revealed to him, then grins as he rubs his slick thumbs together over Mike’s hole, and listens to him whimper.

“I bet you’re so tight for me.”

He beds down and breathes over Mike’s balls then licks up his length while pushing one thumb inside. Mike's body clenches around him and his thighs tremble. Harvey pushes in more, all the while licking the head of his Sub’s cock. When his whole thumb is inside he pulls out slowly and replaces it with his long middle finger, which, never fails to finds a prostate. The length sinks in as he laps the cock head into his mouth and sucks tight. He presses up and draws pressured circles with the pad of his finger until Mike’s breath skips, his fingers dig into the coverlet, and he groans into a backbend, thrusting down onto the finger as he returns. “Fuck! Do that again!”

Harvey pulls out and pushes back in quickly, finding the spot without difficulty. This time he lingers there while Mike writhes desperately on the bed. He fucks him slowly and then harder until his knuckle is bouncing up against Mike’s tailbone. When two fingers are inserted Mike mumbles something incoherent. When a third joins he loses his grip on his legs and starts thrusting in time with Harvey.

Without any warning Harvey pulls his hand away and watches Mike’s hole quiver and shrink. Fucking hell.

Mike mumbles his name repeatedly and tries to sit up when his hands fail to get a grip on his Dom.

“What is it baby? Feeling good yet?” He leans over with a hand on either side of Mike's head. His eyes are foggy and his mouth is hanging open just enough that Harvey can’t help but steal a kiss.

“Does it - does it always feel like this?”

“Penetration should feel good. Although pain can be... an amplifier, in the hands of a good Dom,” he grins cockily. “But tonight, I want you to show you pleasure alone. Are you ready for me?”

He nods his head but holds on tight. “Can we do it like this?” Mike presses his knees against Harvey’s hips.

“I thought it might be better if you ride me.”

“No, please. Now. Just like this.”

Harvey rubs his achingly hard cock over Mike’s. “You’re such a good boy. I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Mike smiles, lifts his legs up and around Harvey’s hips and pulls gently in.

Harvey reaches down to guide himself into Mike’s loosened, but still virginally tight opening. He presses forward and groans as his cockhead sinks into the warmth there. Mike bites his lip, his eyes clenched tight.

“You still with me?” he manages to ask. Mike’s head nods in the affirmative and his eyes open to focus intensely on Harvey.

With another thrust he goes even deeper. Mike gasps. Harvey comes out nearly all the way and then presses in, letting himself finally sink fully to the hilt. He sighs and kisses Mike’s flushed collarbone.

“So tight. Fuck. You feel perfect.” He gathers Mike’s hand into his own grasp, interlacing their fingers. Mike squeezes tightly.

Unable to control it any longer Harvey starts thrusting, gently and then with more force. Mike tightens his thighs and grunts with each inward thrust.

“Say you’re with me.”

“Yes.”

He pushes himself up and changes angle, this time hitting Mike in just the right place so that he screams in pleasure.

“Say you love it.”

“Yes,” he pants.

“No. Say the words.”

“I love it, I love it, I love it. Fuck!”

Harvey picks up a bruising force, delighting in the slapping of his balls against Mike’s ass and the painful nail-digging grip on his back.

Finally, with a strangled shout Mike comes, his ejaculate streaking up his chest and over his right nipple. Harvey leans down to suckle it as he too comes, deep in his Sub’s quivering body.

 

 

Mike lets his breathing even out before dropping his legs. His ears have been buzzing and his skin is flushed hot. He wipes a hand across his face and it comes back damp with sweat. A stupid giddy smile stretches across his face. Nothing, absolutely nothing in his - albeit limited - lifetime of experience could have prepared him for this.

He’s pretty sure Harvey had been petting his thighs and shins, trying to urge him to release his grip, but something about letting go seemed impossible at first. His head swims in an overdose of pleasure pheromones as Harvey collapses beside him and says something in his ear while wiping at his chest with a Kleenex from the end table.

Mike rubs his face again and looks over. Their noses touch. “Huh?”

“Did I hurt you?”

Mike shifts his hips back and forth and feels a slight ache in his ass, but no worse than the pain of well stretched muscles after a good workout. 

"No. I feel - good." His vowels run together lazily as he speaks. Regardless of the subspace fighting to take him under, Mike has just enough sense left to celebrate - collared and fucked, all in one night. Two situations Mike never imagined himself in. Never. And yet, here he is. And he's on cloud nine. 

"Roll over," Harvey orders. Mike does as he's told wordlessly. Harvey sits up above him and swings one leg over his thighs. Then, he takes both hands and presses down, massaging his lower back. There are several soft pops as the pressure behind his tailbone loosens. After a while his touch becomes an exploratory caress.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet. I want to talk." Mike grunts and shifts his forehead off his forearms in an attempt to let the cool air of the room chill his face and awaken his senses. 

"Any regrets?"

Mike grins, although Harvey is unlikely to have seen him. "You worry too much."

"A yes or no answer would have been - "

"No, sir. No regrets."

Harvey presses his hands firmly into the flesh of Mike's ass cheeks and pulls them apart. A finger runs down between and over his damp hole. 

"You're dripping my cum." He says it in an awed whisper as he runs his fingers obscenely in the substance, even dipping a finger in. Mike moans.

"I would fuck you again, if I had the energy. But as it is, I'm worn out."

"You?"

"Take it as a compliment."

Harvey removes his hands and places them comfortably on Mike's back.

"Is there anything I need to know for... next time?"

Mike wiggles in an attempt to roll over, which Harvey allows by kneeling up as Mike’s hips shift under him. They settle back with Harvey towering over Mike, his strong grip grounding him.

"It’s my responsibility to ask. Considering the situation, it’s reasonable that you would want to re-evaluate your needs, your limits, and -”

Mike is smiling like a lovesick fool as he reaches up and puts a hand over Harvey’s mouth. He shuts up but it doesn’t last long. In a flash he has Mike’s wrist ripped away from his face and pinned harshly above his head.

“Do that again and I’ll lock your hands up for the night.”

Mike’s laugh turns into a breathless whimper. The furious fire in Harvey’s eyes and restrained strength in his grip makes his cock twitch. He thrusts up against Harvey to show off the evidence of his arousal.

"Yes, sir.” He whispers. 

They stare at each other in silent communication.

“You remember your safe word?”

Mike nods.

“Say it.”

“Subpoena.”

The word lingers there between them heavily.

“In the future, if I ever find out that you risked not saying it to avoid conflict I will be furious.”

“Yes, sir.”

They’re both breathing heavily, but neither seems inclined to release the other. Finally, Harvey lets go of Mike’s wrists and slides down beside him, gathering him warmly into his embrace. 

“I’ve never been so happy in my life,” Harvey says. His expression is serious, intense, confident.

Mike stutters, wanting desperately to express himself, but failing to do so. Finally, he managed, “I would have been lost if you hadn’t found me.”

Harvey nods, strokes Mike’s lips, and gazes at him with concentration - his eyes, lips, nose, collar. After a while he leans in and kisses him, briefly and with finality. Mike takes it as wordless permission to sleep, and with a sigh, drifts off in the protective embrace of his Dom.

When Mike wakes the next morning it’s to an insistent jab in the back from Harvey, who, to the delight of them both, is no longer the least bit worn out. 

 

_Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Okay, everyone! I know it has been a slow and laborious journey to the end - which I apologize for. I’m terrible at “ending” things, and to be frank, would rather avoid the business altogether. Having said that - this isn’t the end at all! Please remember that with this chapter, only the first part of the “Subspace” series is completed. Part two will be a lengthy one-shot followed by another novel-length fic. _
> 
>  
> 
> _I ended this in such a way as to give closer to those who don’t wish to move on, and would rather leave the boys here, as they are, in domestic bliss. If, however, you want to read more, please remember to add a series/author alert so you can be notified when part two posts._
> 
>  
> 
> _Finally, I cannot begin to express how overwhelmed I’ve been at the response. To all my lovely readers, I thank you profusely. You have been an incredible encouragement and motivation._
> 
>  
> 
> \- _poppypickford_


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